#short haircuts for women over 60

[naildesigns24]

90 Shag Hairstyles for Women Over 60: Trendy Medium & Short Shaggy Cuts

Ever heard The saying, “Age is just A number”? Well, when it comes to hairstyles, it couldn’t be truer. Women over 60 are redefining what it means to look stylish, And leading The charge is The timeless shag hairstyle. With its layers, texture, And effortlessly youthful vibe, The shag is perfect for adding A fresh, modern twist to your look. Ready to dive into some fabulous shag styles? Let’s…

[iseilio-blog]

Hairstyle

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(311) AT HOME LAYERS FOR LIFTING A GRAY BOB - YouTube

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日本髮廊初體驗！交給設計師決定我的髮型＆髮色！｜居妮Ginny Daily♥

(ASMR) Beautiful Japanese Lady Gets Professional Haircut from Top Stylist in Tokyo, Japan

hair do Group, Japanese hair salon in Hong Kong

(324) The Perfect Blend of Power & Luxury! New 2026 Mercedes AMG GT Coupe - YouTube

【40代50代 】増える白髪/くせ/まとまり.. なりたい髪型 が分からない.. 美しく白髪を染める極意！！

【50代60代】驚きの若返り効果！買ったけど使��ないウィッグを似合わせカットしたらすごかった！

(320) 我的天日本髮型師與台灣髮型師大不同第三點讓人驚呆了【SiegHairSalon這就是BRUCE】 - YouTube 不是有什麼不同，而是台灣的未整理，無系統，不長進。

(320) How can I communicate with my hairdresser in Japanese? - YouTube 作法名堂這麼多，日本女生真的都懂嗎？

(321) ASMR enchanting transformation power! Charismatic hairdresser's highest peak short cut & shampoo - YouTube

ASMR enchanting transformation power! Charismatic hairdresser's highest peak short cut & shampoo

ASMR Indian massage in a quiet beauty salon. Comforting sounds and healing

ASMR | Reproduction of Japanese women's hairstyles from hundreds of years ago

[mynaturalhairextension]

As women age, gray hair becomes a beautiful, natural part of life, symbolizing wisdom and maturity. For many women over 60, embracing gray hair is a bold and empowering decision, but choosing the right hairstyle to complement it is equally important. One popular option that has stood the test of time is the wedge haircut. Known for its layered structure, added volume, and versatility, the wedge haircut is a timeless choice that works well for women of all ages. But does it work well with gray hair?

In this blog post, we’ll explore whether wedge haircuts work well with gray hair for women over 60. We’ll look at the benefits of the wedge haircut, how it can enhance the beauty of gray hair, and tips for maintaining this chic, low-maintenance hairstyle. Whether you’re already rocking a wedge cut or are considering it for the first time, this guide will help you decide if the wedge haircut is the right fit for your gray locks.

What Is a Wedge Haircut?

The wedge haircut is a short, layered cut that became widely popular in the 1970s. It features stacked layers at the back of the head, which add volume, while the front layers are usually longer and softer, framing the face. The wedge cut is known for its ability to add texture, movement, and fullness, making it a great option for women with fine or thinning hair.

For women over 60, the wedge haircut is an excellent option because it’s versatile and easy to maintain, while still offering a stylish, modern look. The layers can be customized to suit different face shapes, hair types, and personal preferences, allowing you to make the cut your own.

Why Gray Hair Looks Great with a Wedge Haircut

When it comes to gray hair, the wedge haircut is an ideal option for several reasons. Here’s why this haircut works so well with gray hair, especially for women over 60:

1. Adds Volume to Thinning Hair

As we age, it’s common for hair to become finer or thinner, particularly at the crown. The wedge haircut is designed to add volume and lift, which is particularly beneficial for older women who may be experiencing thinning hair. The stacked layers at the back of the head create height and fullness, giving the illusion of thicker, more voluminous hair.

Gray hair often has a different texture from younger hair—it can become coarser or drier—but the wedge cut’s layering technique works well with this change in texture, making the hair appear fuller and more vibrant.

2. Showcases Gray Hair’s Natural Shine

Gray hair has its own unique beauty, with a natural shine and reflective quality that can be enhanced with the right haircut. The wedge cut, with its layered design, adds depth and dimension to gray hair, allowing the natural highlights and lowlights of silver, white, or salt-and-pepper tones to stand out. The different layers in a wedge haircut catch the light beautifully, adding a luminous glow to your hair.

For women over 60, embracing gray hair and enhancing its natural beauty is a wonderful way to showcase confidence and individuality, and the wedge cut helps to highlight the radiance of gray locks.

3. Softens the Look of Gray Hair

While gray hair can be striking and bold, some women over 60 may want a haircut that softens the overall look of their hair. The wedge haircut, with its softer front layers and face-framing design, can achieve this effect. The longer layers at the front create a gentle, flattering frame for the face, balancing out the boldness of the gray color while maintaining a chic and polished appearance.

This softness is particularly beneficial for women who want a more subtle and refined style that complements their natural gray hair without overpowering their features.

4. Low Maintenance for Busy Lifestyles

One of the biggest advantages of the wedge haircut for women over 60 is that it’s low-maintenance. Gray hair, depending on its texture, may require special care to maintain its shine and health, but the wedge cut makes everyday styling a breeze. The layers are designed to fall into place naturally, meaning that you won’t have to spend a lot of time blow-drying, curling, or styling your hair each morning.

For women who prefer a wash-and-go hairstyle, the wedge cut is perfect. It holds its shape well even as it grows out, so regular trims are the only maintenance required to keep it looking fresh and stylish.

5. Versatile for Different Hair Types and Textures

Whether you have fine, thick, straight, wavy, or curly hair, the wedge haircut can be adapted to suit your natural texture. For women with straight gray hair, the wedge cut provides structure and shape, adding movement where the hair might otherwise appear flat. For those with wavy or curly gray hair, the wedge cut helps manage the texture while showcasing the natural waves and curls.

The wedge haircut’s versatility means that it works well with a wide range of hair textures and can be customized to suit your individual needs. For example, women with fine gray hair can opt for more layers to add volume, while women with thicker gray hair can choose fewer layers for a sleeker, more polished look.

Best Wedge Haircut Variations for Women Over 60 with Gray Hair

Here are some of the best variations of the wedge haircut for women over 60 with gray hair, each offering a unique twist on the classic style.

1. Classic Wedge with Soft Layers

The classic wedge haircut with soft layers is a timeless choice for women over 60. This variation features stacked layers at the back to add volume, while the front layers are kept soft and light, gently framing the face. This cut works beautifully with gray hair, as it allows the natural color variations in your hair to shine through.

Why it works: The soft layers create a gentle, flattering look, while the volume at the crown enhances the natural texture of gray hair.

2. Textured Wedge for a Modern Look

For women over 60 who want a more contemporary twist on the wedge haircut, a textured wedge is an excellent option. This style features choppy, uneven layers that add texture and dimension to the hair. It’s perfect for those with fine gray hair, as the added texture gives the illusion of fullness and body.

Why it works: The texture adds depth to gray hair, making it look dynamic and youthful, while the choppy layers create a modern, edgy feel.

3. Wedge Bob Hybrid

If you prefer a longer hairstyle but still want the benefits of a wedge cut, the wedge bob hybrid is a great choice. This variation combines the stacked layers of a wedge with the length of a bob, creating a sophisticated and polished look. The longer front layers help elongate the face and give the haircut a sleek finish.

Why it works: The wedge bob hybrid offers a more structured look while maintaining the volume and lift that the wedge cut is known for. It’s ideal for women who want a chic, longer hairstyle that still complements their gray hair.

4. Wedge Cut with Side-Swept Bangs

For women over 60 who want to add a bit of flair to their wedge haircut, side-swept bangs are a great addition. The bangs create a diagonal line across the forehead, which helps soften the look of gray hair while adding a youthful, playful element. This style works well with the layered structure of the wedge cut, as it adds balance and draws attention to the eyes.

Why it works: The side-swept bangs complement the wedge cut by adding softness and movement, making it a versatile and flattering option for women with gray hair.

Tips for Maintaining a Wedge Haircut with Gray Hair

To keep your wedge haircut looking its best, here are some tips for maintaining your gray hair:

Use Purple Shampoo: Gray hair can sometimes develop a yellowish tint. To keep your hair looking vibrant, use a purple shampoo once or twice a week to neutralize any brassy tones.

Moisturize Your Hair: Gray hair can be drier than younger hair, so make sure to use moisturizing shampoos, conditioners, and hair masks to keep your locks hydrated and healthy.

Regular Trims: Schedule regular trims every 6-8 weeks to maintain the shape of your wedge haircut and prevent split ends.

Protect Your Hair from Heat: If you use heat styling tools, be sure to apply a heat protectant spray to prevent damage and keep your gray hair looking shiny and healthy.

Final Thoughts

Wedge haircuts work exceptionally well with gray hair for women over 60. The layered structure adds volume and texture, while the cut’s versatility allows it to be customized for different hair types and preferences. Whether you’re embracing your natural gray hair or looking for a stylish way to showcase your silver locks, the wedge haircut offers a flattering and low-maintenance solution that enhances the beauty of gray hair.

With its timeless appeal and modern twist, the wedge haircut is a great choice for women over 60 who want a chic, confident hairstyle that’s easy to maintain and perfectly complements their gray hair.

[scary-movies-on-netflix]

ROSEMARY’S BABY (1968)

So, yes, this movie.  It’s one of the few “horror movies” that’s considered to transcend the genre.  I mostly agree.

Guy and Rosemary are a young married couple who move into a huge apartment in a building called the Bramford.  Rosemary meets a young woman named Terry, who’s living with the Castavets.  Then Terry jumps out a window to her death!  Guy and Rosemary eventually meet the Castavets, an eccentric old couple who are their neighbors.  Roman Castavet is a talkative and charming old man with many stories.  Minnie Castavet is nosy, in your face woman, a good New Yorker.  Guy is an actor, and he apparently bonds with the Castavets over shared interests, but Rosemary doesn’t especially care for them. 

Strange things start to occur!

Guy is passed over in a part for a play, but then the lead actor goes blind and Guy gets the part!

Minnie drops off some “chocolate mousse” as a surprise dessert.  Rosemary thinks it tastes weird and doesn’t want to eat it, but Guy is an asshole and tries to guilt her into eating it.  Rosemary becomes woozy and Guy puts her to bed.  She has visions of being on a boat, and then she is placed naked on a bed.  The Castavets and other people (including Guy!), all naked, surround and watch as Roman paints symbols on Rosemary.  She is sexually assaulted by a demonic figure (a scene recently and deftly recreated in “The First Omen” (2024).)  At one point Rosemary shouts, “This is no dream!  This is really happening!”  She wakes up the next morning with scratches on her body.  Guy explains that he had sex with her while she was asleep.  Eww.

Rosemary becomes pregnant!  At first she’s seeing Dr. Hill, who seems perfectly fine.  She’s due in June of the next year.  Guy insists on telling the Castavets of the news, and they insist that she start seeing Dr. Sapirstein, “one of the finest obstetricians in the country.”  Sapirstein puts Rosemary on a regimen of drinks, prepared by Minnie, and tells her not to seek out advice from anyone else.

Rosemary gets a haircut, a super-short little bob.  She looks like Twiggy, a popular model from those years.  Naturlich, Guy hates the haircut, because he apparently owns her body or something, but I think she looks great.

Over the first trimester, Rosemary suffers from pain and actually loses weight.  Sapirstein keeps telling her that it’ll be fine.  An old friend, Hutch, comes to visit.  He’s curious about a trinket the Castavets have given Rosemary, which contains something odiferous called “tannis root.”  Hutch later calls Rosemary to arrange a meetup.  Rosemary shows up, but Hutch isn’t there.  She calls his house, only to discover that he’s suddenly fallen into a coma!

Rosemary decides to throw a party, but she’s only inviting their younger friends: “You have to be under 60 to get in.”  Minnie learns about the party and tries to finagle her way into helping, but Rosemary puts her off.  The night of the party, all of the women are highly concerned about Rosemary’s health and insist that she see another doctor.  “I won’t have an abortion!” Rosemary cries.  After the party Guy attacks Rosemary’s friends, saying, “They’re a bunch of not-very-bright bitches who ought to mind their own goddamn business!”  People, I’m starting to not like Guy.  As they’re continuing to argue (Guy doesn’t want to her to see another doctor, because he’s obviously part of the plot to isolate her) all of Rosemary’s pain goes away and she feels the fetus kicking. 

Things seem to proceed well after that.  Rosemary’s due date is in three weeks, but she gets news that Hutch, her old friend, has died!  She goes to the funeral, where one of his family members gives her a book, a final present from Hutch.  It’s called “All of Them Witches.”  Rosemary reads about witches, including one “Adrian Mercato,” who previously lived in their building!  Hutch left a clue that there’s an anagram in the book.  Rosemary uses a “Scrabble” set to figure out that Mercato’s son, Steven Mercato, is actually Roman Castavet!  Rosemary is now convinced that the Castavets, who must be witches, are after her!  Some stuff happens.  The Castavets go on a trip, and, in a famous scene, Rosemary wanders across a busy street and dumps her tannis root trinket in a sewer grate.  She goes to visit Dr. Sapirstein, and his secretary mentions how he uses an aftershave that also smells like tannis root, because he is a witch!

Rosemary uses an old timey phone booth to call Dr. Hill.  A man stands ominously outside as she pleads for the doctor to see her, and Hill says she can come over to his office.  She arrives and rants to him about witches.  Dr. Hill says that he’s going to check Rosemary into Mount Sinai for care, but instead he calls Guy and Dr. Sapirstein!  They take her back to their building, but Rosemary gets away from them and locks herself into the apartment.  She’s trying to call a friend, but numerous people enter through a secret door and subdue Rosemary!  She goes into labor!

When Rosemary comes to Guy and Dr. Sapirstein tell her that the baby died during birth.  “It was in the wrong position.”  Various people watch over her.  Guy ties to tell her that everything is “gonna be roses.”   Rosemary hears a baby crying on the other side of her wall!  People are giving her pills and collecting her breast milk!  Rosemary stops taking the pills and finds the secret door from her apartment into the Castavet’s.  She goes inside and there are a bunch of people, including the Castavets, and a big black cradle!  Rosemary looks at the baby inside and is horrified: “What have you done to it!  What have you done to its eyes?”  Roman says, “He has his father’s eyes.”  Roman explains that Satan “came up from hell and begat a son of a mortal woman.”  Everyone starts to hail Satan.  Roman suggests to Rosemary that she “be a real mother to Adrian,” the baby.  Rosemary cries.  She spits in Guy’s face.

Finally, someone is violently rocking the cradle with Adrian.  Rosemary goes over to it and begins to gently rock the cradle.  She looks at Adrian, but not with hate or disgust, maybe the first inkling of motherly affection.

So much has been written about this movie, essays and books, that I don’t have much to add, and certainly nothing new or original.  This is a sensitive portrayal of a victim.  Rosemary is being isolated, manipulated, and gaslit.  At the end, her own good nature is further manipulated to care for the spawn of Satan.  (It’s incredibly unsettling that the famous director, who showed such sympathy for a victim, turned out to be a victimizer himself.)  I’m also fascinated by the fact that the movie, actually, doesn’t always take itself too seriously.  The performance of Rosemary (Mia Farrow) verges at times into camp, without quite crossing the line, and we have high camp at the end when the witches chant, “HAIL SATAN THE YEAR IS ONE AND GOD IS DONE!”  Everything just works.  This is sublime.

[spellboundwigs]

What are the advantages of Wearing Jon Renau Wigs?

Jon Renau Wigs are often used for medical reasons, such as temporarily replacing lost hair or covering a scar. You may wear them as hats or add them to your outfit for a party. However, there is no denying that many women use wigs for purposes other than vanity. Putting on a wig might be intimidating for some individuals since so many variables need to be thought through beforehand. You may wear your wig wherever and whenever you want, whether at the workplace, the gym, or a formal function.

Benefits of Wearing Short Jon Renau Wigs over Real Hair

Shortening your hair, even if you like longer hair, to avoid overheating in the summer is a trend. The Short Length Wigs for Sale Online has become a popular summer haircut. All conceivable bob hairstyles may be achieved with today's synthetic wigs. The freedom to wear whichever hairdo you choose at any given moment is one of the many benefits of the short bob wig. Short bob wigs are a great way to experiment with a new hairstyle without committing to a permanent change.

All Ages Can Enjoy the Short Length Wigs

You may have noticed that wigs for women over 60 tend to be cut quite near the face. This is intentional, and it's great if you like the style, but there are other options. It's crucial to remember that style will win out over length, so although shorter styles may be simpler to maintain for youngsters, they may also be a wonderfully stylish appearance for ladies.

As an alternative to short, close cropping, sleek small bob cuts with off-center fringes look fantastic. Short wigs with off-center parts may have the same impact as those with ruffles or bangs by softening the features of the face.

There's no need to assume a pre-styled wig is your only option; if you're feeling bold, you can always purchase a longer wig and have it razor trimmed to a style that fits you the best.

A Wide Range of Designs

You may save money on a synthetic Short Length Wig for Sale Online that looks exactly like your own hair, and it will save you time in the morning since you won't have to style it. Because they are already fashionable and will last with the right care, wigs save you the trouble of maintaining their appearance. You may choose from various colors and designs for the hairpieces.

Jon Renau Wigs are becoming popular among the general public, not merely to disguise thinning hair or other hair loss. Human hair wigs are the most popular option among the different types of wigs now on the market. The wigs' widespread appeal stems from many elements: their durability and premium quality. However, most shoppers must find the difference between human front lace and synthetic wigs and buy the latter.

There is a Diverse Color Selection of Short Hair Wigs

Short wigs are often styled to highlight the selected Short Length Wigs for Sale Online color, radiating a natural sheen that gives the wearer a lovely, healthy appearance. Wigs for short hair come in various colors, so you can pick one that complements your natural hair color and style, whether you want a blonde layered cut, a sophisticated brown cut, or a fiery red wig. You may also try out new color combinations, like the Ombre style that is very trendy right now. You may be certain that whatever shade you choose for your short-hair wig will always be appropriate.

Conclusion

Moreover, wearing a Jon Renau Wig will allow you to express your style and taste in hair and clothing, no matter the setting. Wigs may also be made by weaving human hair together. Silk, acrylic, and metal are some materials used to create wigs. The wig's price will vary based on the material it's produced from. A cotton wig might be a good option if you want something light and airy.

[mylifeasaserver]

in general: phrase of general

1. usually, mainly          Example: in general, John was discussing in good faith

2. as a whole          Example: in general, women live longer than men

Just to help you out with some reading comprehension. 

Also to help you out:

Given that men comprise 49.2% of the US population and women 50.8%, the estimated breakup of hair length by gender among Americans is 47% men with short hair, 22% women with medium hair, 17% women with short hair, 12% women with long hair, 1% men with long hair, and 1% men with medium hair. So because math, roughly 96% of men have short hair, and a little over 4% of men have medium or long hair. Roughly 43% of women have medium hair, 24% have long hair, and 33% of women have short hair.

Based on this, it’s clear that the overwhelming majority of men have short hair. Women are more evenly divided.

According to the NHBF (National Hair and Beauty Foundation) women’s cuts in general are more complicated than men’s, leading to higher prices. 

More from the NHBF: Chief executive Hilary Hall says: "This is because men tend to have shorter hair, require haircuts which are technically quicker to deliver, do not typically include the range of products used for women and require less time for finishing. For example, a bob may be viewed as a short style, but it is more technically challenging than a short back and sides."

She insists the price difference is not based on gender. "A salon or barber-shop will set its prices taking the following into consideration: the length and texture of the client's hair, the time the service takes, the type of service requested, the products the salon or barber-shop will use, and the skills, training and level of experience required by the stylist or barber."

While some men do want complex and time-consuming haircuts, the rise of barber-shops - the NHBF says there's been a 64% increase in five years - suggests that a straightforward and cheap haircut is a popular option.

In addition, according to a 2016 report from Square on average, women are paying $11 more than men nationally — $45 compared with $35.  By the way, that same report found that women pay the highest price in Washington, an average of $78 a haircut, where men pay an average of $60.

Another reason for the price difference? Men tend to go get their hair cut more often. The average man goes to the barber/salon roughly every 8 weeks. The average woman? About 13.5 weeks.

Using the numbers from the first image above, that means in a year a man spends about $227.50 assuming just the base numbers, not including any tips. The average woman will spend $260, again on base numbers alone. If the difference between sexism and not sexism is running at $32.50 A YEAR (or a whole $2.71 a month,) it’s really shitty sexism. For $3 a month, it’s largely a waste of time. Most of us piss more than that down the drain buying dumb shit.

But lets go back to the length of hair thing. Let’s say one of those guys with the lovely flowing manes and glorious beards goes to get their hair styled. They can immediately add $5-15 for the beard trim because let’s face it: most of us aren’t getting those fine cuts at home on our own. Given that men go to the barber more often, that actually means that those men will spend (using the additional $5 for a beard trim figure) $267.50 a year in barber/salon services. Meaning they pay more than women over the course of a year. $7>$2.71. Is it sexism now? No, it still isn’t.

Another thing to consider, as mentioned by Hilary Hall, chief executive of the NHBF is “...and the skills, training and level of experience required by the stylist or barber.” It takes time and skill to do the cuts on the women in the pictures you showed. Since we’ve established that men in general get simpler haircuts, it stands to reason that the experience and skill necessary to perform one of these simpler cuts is not as great as any of the women in the pictures you posted.

To that end, I’d like to remind you that there is such a thing as a gender-neutral salon where patrons pay an hourly rate. So the more complex the cut the more is paid, regardless of any other factors. Take a moment to ponder who is likely spending the most there. 

Also, places like Supercuts exist, where it is estimated a patron can get a Supercut III, a haircut, shampoo, basic conditioner, and blow dry for around $26 regardless of other factors such as gender. 

Have a great night!

Somewhere there is someone who will justify this because something something "women have longer hair" 💀

[bellarosethefangirl]

Ooh Abella this looks fun! Guess I'm finally giving in and trying the online dating thing 😂

1. I'd love dates with someone from Yu-Gi-Oh (Duel Monsters) and sailor moon please!

2. I like both men and women, though for full transparency in my answers, I will admit I have a preference for men 💖

3. Picrew:

4. I'm a Virgo (though Leo is strong in my chart) ♍♌

5. Hm, for sailor moon, I'd prefer to not be paired with Usagi. And for Yu-Gi-Oh, you know me, please don't set me up on a date with Kaiba, there will be hands thrown if that happens XD

6. For Men: I typically like "soft" looks. Tall/burly men often make me feel uncomfortable, so a shorter build would be nice (weight doesn't matter, it's mostly height that gets to me). And I know it sounds weird but…I actually like it when a man has some "fem" looks to him?? Like men with long hair make me foam at the mouth lol other than that, dark (or red!) hair that’s curly/wavy is extremely attractive to me. Overall tho, I really like a cute, nerdy look.

Women: honestly with women, they're so beautiful that I don't care if they're more fem, more masc, or anything in between. Though again I find dark or red curly hair very nice. A cute smile is a bonus, and a nice voice would make me swoon hard 💕

7. I love sweet, gentle personalities in both men and women. They don't necessarily have to be bubbly, I just love gentle hearts ❤️ also intelligence is a big thing, I love having nice, long conversations with people and I might get bored with someone who doesn’t like to talk. Having a bit of an adventurous side would also be nice, that way we can go do new things together sometimes!

8. Both men and women: Loyalty, compassion, a sense of humor would be nice, and sharing similar geeky interests.

9. Oh nicknames? Uh, honey, sweetheart, my love, all those are fine. The only nicknames I hate are infantilizing ones like baby girl.

For the aesthetic board

1. Disney for the other theme (hocus pocus to keep it halloween themed)

2 . Chocolates are always a good present!

3 . Blue and purple 💙💜

4 . Lilies!

5 . Chocolate and caramel cookies, and Dr pepper.

Thanks so much Bella! I hope you're not getting too over run with these, if so make sure to take a break, and close the request if you need too! Love ya 💖

Awe I’m so happy you sent yours in! Lol guess you are trying online dating after all 🤣 I did take a break with these, definitely do thank you. Sorry about the wait. Been busy and my mom got covid 😷 she’s better now.

Halloween Café Blind Double Dates 💜🎃 Anime Online Date Matchups

I’ll be sure to get all the matchups done as soon as I can. Thanks for the patience everyone.

“Good evening I do hope you enjoyed yourself at the Hocus Pocus café. It looks as though your dates also enjoyed themselves especially the king of games.”

“I must admit how lucky you are. Your dates are cuties. It’s up to you who you choose.”

Matchup Applicants:

Profile:

Name: Atem

Gender: Male

Description: Noble, serious, friendly, honest, loyal, geeky, loves games, intelligent

Moral Alignment: Neutral Good

Appearance: Short, slightly muscular, red eyes, red hair, spiky hair, multi colored hair, sharp eyes

Occupation: Duelist, King of games, Pharaoh

Zodiac: Leo

Dating Survey Results: Compatibility 90%

Communication 💌 100%

Emotions 💗 94%

Similar Values 🏡 100%

Passion 💘 100%

Profile:

Name:  Hotaru Tomoe, Sailor Saturn

Gender: Female

Description: Shy, Introverted, kind hearted, gentle, intelligent, light hearted, loyal, loving

Moral Alignment: Lawful Good

Appearance: Short, petite, bob haircut, black hair, long lashes, rosey cheeks

Occupation: Student, Sailor Scout

Zodiac: Capricorn

Dating Survey Results: Compatibility 93%

Communication 💌 100%

Emotions 💗 87%

Similar Values 🏡 100%

Passion 💘 100%

Love Meter 💗💓

Atem

Hotaru Tomoe

Zodiac 💫💖

Atem

Hotaru Tomoe

Dating Results 💖

Percentages Matches: 0-25%= Bad Match, 26-50%= Poor Match, 60-70%= Decent Match, 70-80%= Good Match, 80-90%= Excellent Match, 90-100%= Perfect Match

1. Atem:

Survey Results: Perfect Match 90%

Love Meter: True Love 92%

Zodiacs: Virgo + Leo Compatibility 53%

Over all Results: 90% Perfect Match

2. Hotaru Tomoe:

Survey Results: Perfect Match 93%

Love Meter: True Love 96%

Zodiacs: Virgo + Capricorn Compatibility 93%

Over all Results: 98% Perfect Match

[rwmarketingunit2]

1920s hair

The 1920s were split between two major events- the aftermath of world war one and the financial crash that lead onto the Great Depression causing many changes in the styles of women throughout the era. In the 1920s it was serious business if a woman cut her hair as long hair was seen as feminine and short hair was seen as masculine. Dancer Irene castle was one of the first women to get a Bob haircut in 1915 after this many celebrities followed and eventually long hair was being restyled into short bobs however if you had long hair it would be neatly arranged within a bun with sides full of waves or curls needing to be flat to fit a hat over the top. Even with the effort to maintain long hair within a bun most women were taking the risk and chopping their long hair off by 1924. In the early twenties frizzy curls and waves on the side of the face were the preference however as the era went on smother more sculptured waves were prioritised. Curling irons with wooden handles and round iron shafts were heated over a coal or gas flame to get the desired wave or curl look although it damaged the hair more than curling it. When all women started bobbing their hair they couldn’t go to a salon as they didn’t even exist yet so it was in the hands of a trustworthy friend or a men’s Barber. Barbers had to quickly learn how to cut women’s hair as it was in high demand and everyone wanted this hairstyle which was a shock at the time because a men’s sacred place had been invaded with women who wanted to “look like a man” and by the end of the twenties women only salons exploded keeping the short neat and curly hair in fashion. The shock of the Bob didn’t come well to some people and many people had gotten criticism and disapproving looks or comments however not all people had not liked it and quite a few people had approved of the look and quite liked it.

Harvard referencing:

1920s bobbed hairstyles craze: 1926 ai enhanced film [60 fps 4K] (2021) YouTube. Available at: https://youtu.be/2c-giu7zgpU (Accessed: December 10, 2022).

1920s hairstyles history- long hair to bobbed hair (no date) Vintage Dancer. Available at: https://vintagedancer.com/1920s/1920s-long-hair-to-bobbed-hair/ (Accessed: December 10, 2022).

Team, H.M.U.A. (2021) Women's 1920s hairstyles: An overview, Hair & Makeup Artist Handbook. Available at: https://hair-and-makeup-artist.com/womens-1920s-hairstyles/ (Accessed: December 10, 2022).

Team, H.M.U.A. (2021) Women's 1920s hairstyles: An overview, Hair & Makeup Artist Handbook. Available at: https://hair-and-makeup-artist.com/womens-1920s-hairstyles/ (Accessed: December 10, 2022).

[naildesigns24]

65 Chic Short Hairstyles for Women Over 60: Trendy Looks with Glasses & Fine Hair

Turning 60 is A milestone worth celebrating, And what better way to embrace this fabulous age than with A chic, short hairstyle that exudes confidence, style, And ease? Whether you’re aiming for something sophisticated or A bit more playful, there’s A short hairstyle out there that can perfectly capture your unique personality And enhance your natural beauty. Let’s dive into The world of short…

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Cute pixie cuts.

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20 Pixie Cuts for Little Girls – Kid's Pixie (2022).

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6 Pixie Haircuts to Try in 2022 | M.

60 Layered Hairstyles and Shaggy Haircut Ideas for 2022.

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Some of them include bold pixies, the cutest boyish cuts, fun bobs, edgy hairstyles, and much more. All of these are here and can award you an entirely different appearance with deficient maintenance. With that introduction in mind, let us skip to the main section of the post and look at the 50 best short haircuts for girls in the world. Short in the back and long on top, this pixie is perfect if you want your new look to include side-swept bangs. 16 of 25 Scarlett Johansson Frazer Harrison/Getty Images The Avengers actress wore a. Pixies on square and diamond face shapes add texture and volume to the hair, therefore minimizing the sharp, angular features of this.

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InStyle beauty experts rounded up top short haircuts and short hairstyles for women, from star-inspired pixies to short curly cuts. Before making the cut, see selected styling tips for short looks. FLaC" à r ÄBð7rña ¯V£ò5ƒí3† ·Y g reference libFLAC 1.3.3 20190804 album=Taikou Risshiden album_e=Taikou Risshiden album_j=太é-¤ç«‹å¿—ä¼ artist=Michiru Oshima artist_e=Michiru Oshima artist_j=大島ミムル date=1992 ripper=2ch-H system=FM Towns system_e=FM Towns system_j=FM TOWNS title=Move. Space available in beautiful suite (Mon/Fri/Sat). Professional building. Excellent location. Easy access to Rte 93/95/3. Short walk to T.

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Calhoun works at the Maximum FX salon in the Texas capital, has a bachelor in psychology from UT-Austin, and studied at the Aveda Institute. So she wields her scissors wisely. "She was 13 years.

20 Pixie Cuts for Little Girls – Kid's Pixie (2022).

Jun 06, 2020 · 3. Blonde Pixie for Women Over 50. If you are a woman over 50, a short haircut that can be styled in only a couple of minutes can be a real blessing for you. This pixie haircut for older women will look fabulous and will save you a lot of time. 4. High Top Pixie for Women With Long Faces. Jan 28, 2022 · A pixie cut is a short women’s haircut with short layers at the back and the sides and a longer section at the top. Pixie hairstyles first came about in the 1920s when women experimented with the bob haircuts and other short hairstyles. This version of a pixie cut is funky, edgy, and messy. With a messed up side-swept, long bangs, and a shaved side, this cut is perfect for the little girl who has a funky personality. For a more rockstar look, dye her hair her favorite color! 3..

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Oct 17, 2021 - Explore Eileen Fennell's board "Cute pixie cuts", followed by 192 people on Pinterest. See more ideas about short hair cuts, short hair styles, hair cuts. 3. Front Dutch Braid (AKA Crown Braid) Crown Braid Tutorial for Short Hair. If you are looking for a braided hairstyle for short hair that would work for fancier events, you should totally try the crown braid. This kind of hairstyle combines a braid with an updo to create an elegant hair look.

6 Pixie Haircuts to Try in 2022 | M.

Short haircuts for Asian women 2021-2022. Pixie haircuts for Asian women, the world’s most preferred, has been carefully and carefully prepared. These stylish short hair designs are great for Asian ladies who want to use a pixie hair style. With different color options you can find short pixie hair cuts in every face with every facial shape.

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60 Best Pixie Cuts - Iconic Celebrity Pixie Hairstyles - 2020. 1. The Very Best Looks From Couture Week FW22. 2. The 33 Best Beauty Products On Sale At Nordstrom. 3. How To Plan a Wedding Based on. Jun 22, 2022 - Explore Belle "Pepper"'s board "Before and after pixie" on Pinterest. See more ideas about short hair styles, hair cuts, short hair cuts.

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19 Nyakim Gatwech’s Coiled Pixie Cut. Emma McIntyreGetty Images. To enhance a shorter natural pixie cut like Nyakim Gatwech’s, try a creamy co-wash like New Wash (Rich) and a hydrating leave.

Edgy Pixie Cuts - Pinterest.

Information and ISO download page for Shining Hearts (Japan) PSP ISO (Sony PlayStation Portable). Home.ISO Languages: Japanese. Shining Hearts is an RPG game published by SEGA.... Taikou Risshiden IV Taikou Risshiden V Takuyo Mix Box Portable Taito Legends Power Up Taishou Yakyuujou Otome Tatsune Tales of Destiny 2 Tales of Eternia. Braids Colors and Bangs. As an Asan girl with dark hair, you can create great contrasts.. Taikou Risshiden V JAP Tantei Jinguuji Saburo: Hai to Diamond JAP Tenchu San Portable JAP The Hohei 2: Senyuu yo, Sakini Ike - Simple 2500 Series Portable!! Vol. 12 JAP... * Your ISO is now working on your custom firmware GEN. Reply. omgpwn666 Guy gamer and proud! Member. Level 5. Joined Jun 14, 2008 Messages 2,546 Trophies 0 Age 30 Location.

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Here, the jet-black color and clean shape are combined together to please us with a sassy asymmetrical pixie adorned by a fun little detail just below the ear. Medium Pixie to Flatter Hair Texture Straight, thick hair, which is dense.

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3 of 34. Edie Sedgwick. The '60s introduced a slew of iconic pixie cuts. Sedgwick's version looks artfully disheveled thanks to dark roots. Keep platinum hair like Edie's in tip-top shape with. Feb 20, 2020 - Explore Marilyn's board "Edgy Pixie Cuts" on Pinterest. See more ideas about short hair cuts, short hair styles, hair cuts.

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30 Prep For Your Pixie Hairstyle. Photo Credit: @marilynrose_stylebymarilyn. No pressure, but the first 30 seconds of styling a pixie are critical for securing the ideal shape. To set the stage, quickly prep damp hair with a priming spray or treatment cream after stepping out of the shower. These time-savers can help cut blow dry time in half.

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8 Cute Pixie Cuts for 2017 - Celebrity Pixie Hairstyle Ideas. 1. 27 Perfect Gifts For a "Stranger Things" Fan. 2. Black-Owned Fashion Brands to Buy From. 3. 27 Best Plus-Size Swimsuits, According. Apr 28, 2022 · Tight Crop. While the Big Chop is hardly a “trend,” it's been a particularly big year for women transitioning from relaxed to natural hair. Start fresh with a cropped cut—or even a buzz cut.

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The Editors. January 24, 2022. As contrasted to close-cut crops, the long pixie cut implies an extra length either all throughout the perimeter or just in certain sections, usually in the front and on top. Retaining a dramatic effect of a short cut, these styles bring in more femininity, building a flattering and softening frame around the face. Discover short videos related to long pixie cut for teens on TikTok. Watch popular content from the following creators: shornladies(@shornladies), chels_homer(@chels_homer), Beeb Barbera(@subject99), Rafahstylist(@rafahstylist), shornladies(@shornladies). Explore the latest videos from hashtags: #longpixiecut, #pixicut, #longlayercut🤗, #longlayercut, #longshagcut. The Top Pixie Haircuts of All Time. The cut may be short, but its influence is long-lasting. By Harper's Bazaar Staff. Feb 1, 2021. Hairstyles, Cuts & Color Trends.

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“In February 1924, Illustreret Fagblad for danske Damefrisorer, one of the leading trade journals for Danish women's hairdressers, reported that short haircuts for women were becoming increasingly common throughout most of Europe. Although the trend had not yet reached Denmark, it was likely to do so, the journal predicted, since "we have seen within the last couple of months the first signs of .. . shorn hair here in Copenhagen." The prediction proved correct. In July 1925, Ugens Spejl, another trade journal, reported that the new fashion was spreading "like fire in old houses." That same year, the president of the Ladies' Hairdressers Association estimated that 25 percent of Copenhagen's female population had their hair cut short.

The following year, one Copenhagen barber claimed that no less than 75 percent of women under the age of 30 had adopted the new styles, leading the editor of yet another trade journal, Danmarks Barber-og Frisortidende to conclude that "there is something almost epidemically contagious about the advancing shingling. Each and everyone who lets her locks fall for the scissors immediately draws four or five others with her." Although contemporaries may have exaggerated the numbers, contemporary street photography and surviving photo albums suggest that a significant number of young women did in fact dispose of their long hair in the second half of the 1920s. 

It is also telling that no fewer than 48 of the 59 women interviewed for this project recalled having their hair cut short before 1930. As Anne Bruun explained many years later, "That was just what you did. If you were young and wanted to be in style, that was definitely the look. Anybody who wanted to be up-to-date did that." Helene Berg agreed. "Short hair made you look chic, made you look modern," she claimed. Besides, as Louise Ege pointed out, short hair "kind of fit with the other things that were fashionable. Short dresses and all that." But despite their enthusiasm for the new hairstyles, actually acquiring one of the fashionable bobs was not always easy. While the number of beauty salons had been growing since the turn of the century, women's hairdressers generally shied away from providing their female customers with the short haircuts they desired.

For decades women's hairdressers had worked hard to create a respectable female profession by promoting themselves as specialists in hygiene and conventional feminine beauty, an accomplishment they were not willing to sacrifice by embracing the controversial new styles. Moreover, since most hairdressers were only used to working with combs, brushes, and curlers, few were actually competent to cut hair. As a result, many women had to enter male barbershops to have their hair cut, a step many took with considerable trepidation. The difficulties of finding a stylist both willing and able to cut a woman's hair was not the only obstacle to a fashionable appearance. Many fathers and husbands explicitly prohibited the new styles. Others let their disapproval be known more indirectly.

As Magda Gammelgaard Jensen recalled, "I really wanted to get my hair [cut] short, but I didn't know how to go about it. It wasn't so easy when there was a man around." According to Mr. H. M. Christensen, the president of the Danish Grooming, Toilet and Sanitary Workers' Union, many women therefore chose to "have their hair cut at a time when their husbands and fathers [were] not at home." Outside the private sphere, other forces also strove to contain "that unfortunate tendency among young ladies to shear their hair." Some workplaces openly discriminated against women who adhered to the new fashion. Several prominent department stores did not hire women who sported the new hairstyles. Others fired employees after a visit to the hairdresser. 

In 1924, the personnel director at Crome & Goldschmidt, one of the leading clothing stores in Copenhagen, flatly declared that he "would absolutely not engage or employ any young woman with bobbed hair." Other businesses had similar policies. The president of Salomon David Jr. Inc., Inger Diemer, explained that she had "banned bobbed hair." "I demand," she continued, "that the women who work with us, sign [a contract] that they will not wear short hair. In my mind, that is not proper in an old, highly esteemed firm." The director of Bispebjerg Hospital, Charlotte Munck, also banned short hair for all nurses under her supervision.

Even women in less publicly visible occupations faced ostracism if they chose to adopt the modern styles. Inger Mangart, for example, who worked as a part-time cleaning assistant in a private home in the late 1920s, recalled being dismissed the first day she arrived with short hair. The press was equally adamant in its stance against the new styles. To discourage young women from following fashion, newspapers and popular magazines delighted in sensationalist stories about domestic turmoil caused by short hair. Divorces, physical abuse, family disintegration, and even murders were described as tragic, but predictable, outcomes of women's changed appearances.

Assuming, however, that young women were more likely to follow fashion prescription than sensible guidance, journalists and other commentators figured that the most efficient way to combat the modern styles was simply to declare them unfashionable. "Bobbed hair is no longer in style," one beauty advice columnist thus warned as early as 1922, several years before the new styles hit Denmark. "We hardly have to repeat that bobbed hair has already received the death sentence abroad," another fashion expert claimed that same year. "There is no doubt that this fad, the short hair, is coming to an end," Ugebladet asserted a couple of years later, and in 1925, B.T. was pleased to report that "all countries now agree that the fashion of short hair is finally on the retreat."

Yet despite these elaborate efforts to suppress the new haircuts, women's enthusiasm did not wane. Many critics therefore felt compelled to explain the dangers of the new styles in the hope that young women would be swayed by their arguments. Some journalists and beauty advice columnists sought to discourage young women from having their hair cut through use of the kind of racist imagery that permeated early twentieth century European culture. By labeling the new styles "Hottentot hair" or "Apache cuts," they strove to impress upon young women the incompatibility of short hair with refined Western womanhood. "Surely, no young lady wants to look like a monkey," one reporter thus argued, apparently hoping that young women would recognize the similarity between women's short hair and animal fur. 

Other observers claimed that short hair simply made women look ugly and unattractive. Cutting one's hair was therefore inevitably at the risk of losing "the man's admiration and desire." Although some men admitted that a short-haired woman might serve "as a drinking buddy," those who participated in the public debate all insisted that the new styles did not mix with marriage and motherhood, implying that short-haired women could expect to live out their lives as spinsters and old maids— an argument that presumably would dissuade any young woman from such reckless behavior. While most female critics tended to focus on the aesthetic aspects of the new styles, it was quite different considerations that fueled much of the vehement male opposition. 

Like many other people in the early twentieth century, these commentators believed there was a direct correlation between external appearance and internal self. When a woman cut her hair, she was not only defying conventional standards of femininity but was also prone to develop some of those mental traits that usually characterized people with short hair—namely, men. As Ludvig Brandt-Meller, a male hairdresser who opposed the new styles, explained, "Short hair tends to emancipate the woman. It is as if it affects her psychologically." Others found that short-haired women became "like men in character and gestures," insisting that "that 99 out of 100 women with short hair have simultaneously acquired boyish or mannish manners."'

A few alarmists saw even greater dangers ahead. The very act of cutting a woman's hair, they argued, would eventually alter a woman's biological constitution and turn her into a man. Believing that the mass of hair on a human body was constant, some argued that short hair would necessarily cause women to grow beards. Others predicted the advent of female baldness. "The evidence is right there, since 60 percent of all men over forty [who presumably had cut their hair since childhood] are bald, while less than 0.1 percent of all women [who had never previously cut their hair] suffer from this weakness," another critic of the new styles explained. 

While men had tended to object to short dresses because they rendered women too attractive, their reactions to short hair were therefore quite different. According to male critics, short hair "emancipated" women and made then unwomanly, even masculine, and not attractive enough, a violation of gender norms that seemed to them much graver and ultimately more unpleasant than women being overly sexy and seductive. Even those who did not necessarily believe that short hair would actually turn women into men found this quite disturbing because, as one correspondent wrote to the editor of the newspaper B.T. in 1925, "If there is something we men cannot stand, it is precisely women void of femininity. "

Young women's seeming disregard of men's opinions about the new styles only made matters worse. Apparently, young women were no longer pursuing physical beauty and style for the purposes of male pleasure and admiration. How, then, were men to understand women's enthusiasm for short hair as anything but a sign that women cared less about male approval than about their own "emancipation"? Some even feared that the popularity of the new styles might indicate an explicit sexual and emotional detachment from men. In comparison with those who defended short dresses when they first appeared, supporters of the new hairstyles were therefore faced with a much more difficult task. 

The opposition to women's short hair was much fiercer than the opposition to short dresses had ever been, as short hair connoted emancipation, female defiance, and rebellion against men's judgment in a way that short skirts never had. During this entire controversy, the voices of women who cut their hair were rarely heard in public. Under heavy fire, most young women seemingly preferred to avoid the discursive battles that raged around them. On the few occasions that any of these women did speak up, they generally adopted a very cautious stance, seeking to diffuse the opposition by reassuring critics of their whole-hearted commitment to femininity and respectable womanhood. 

In 1925, one young woman who described herself as "old-fashioned" despite her short hair thus sought to counter criticisms of the new styles by denying that there was any link between appearance and identity. "Why in the world should a young girl not be equally feminine and good whether she has bobbed hair or long hair?," she wondered. "It does, after all, not change the nature of the young girl to have her hair cut off." More often, young women simply tried to skirt criticisms by emphasizing the very pragmatic concerns that allegedly had led them to the barbershop. "Much can be said both for and against the bobbed hair, but the fact that it is a practical way of wearing one's hair, nobody can deny," one woman argued.

Nonetheless, the relative silence on the part of the women who wore the new hairstyles did not mean that no voices were raised in their defense. Complicating the picture of vocal male opponents and a largely silent group of female supporters, the chief public advocates of short hair for women in the 1920s were in fact male barbers. Not that barbers were a particularly fashion-conscious bunch or especially committed to young women's right to determine their own appearance. These men simply saw the new styles as a means to propel their profession out of the crisis in which it had lingered for decades. 

The rise of the medical and dental professions had dealt the first blow to the former surgeon-barbers, eliminating what had been the most profitable areas of their occupation. Later, when men began to shave themselves rather than frequenting the barber twice or three times weekly, the financial base of most barbershops had been further undercut, and scattered attempts at cultivating new areas of business expertise such as facial massage and manicure had contributed only little to their economy. 

In this context, the fashionable new styles for women seemed a god-send for barbers eager to cultivate both a new clientele and new sources of income, and since women's hairdressers generally opposed the short hairstyles and most often refused to cut women's hair, barbers were left with the uncontested responsibility for providing young women with the look they desired. Of course, barbers were not oblivious to the offense women's short hair provoked or the wrath they might incur by accommodating female customers. 

It was therefore in their own best interest to counter the opposition, and toward that end they adopted the same strategy that fashion advocates had successfully used a few years earlier, namely, to attempt to disassociate short hair from any kind of subversive intentions on the part of women. Short hair, they insisted, had nothing to do with defiance of feminine conventions or even modern fashions. It was a style adopted for reasons of comfort, ease, and practicality only. "It is not the senseless mimicking of fashion follies that has led women to allow their hair to be cut off," one barber thus insisted in 1926. "Rather, it is the natural development in all social strata that has forced the women to choose a practical hairstyle."

To give credibility to this claim, barbers traced the origins of women's short hair not to feminist rebels or decadent fashions, but to that highly respectable, self-sacrificing female heroine, Florence Nightingale. "When a war begins," one writer explained, "masses of younger and older women who wish to be nurses in the army immediately sign up. The healthiest among them are selected, and the first step on the road to their new vocation is to cut their hair as short as men's, first, because the daily care takes too long time, and secondly, because a nurse cannot run around with a zoo of carnivores [sicl] in her long hair." Upon their return, the reasoning continued, admirers adopted similar hair styles. 

Although there was little historical evidence to support such an explanation—after all, Florence Nightingale's reputation had been established during the Crimean War almost three quarters of a century earlier, and few women had followed her example in the intervening years —this argument had several advantages. First, it disassociated short hair from any kind of female defiance. Second, it sought to ground the popularity of the new hairstyles in admirable, patriotic concerns. And third, it tied short hair to notions of health and hygiene. From the mid-1920s, particularly the latter, combined with arguments about the practical requirements of the labor market, formed the core in the defense of women's short hair. 

In addition, barbers also sought to address anxieties over the seeming dissipation of gender differences by calling attention to the cultural and historical versatility of hair styles. In an article entitled "Masculine Girl Hair and Feminine Boy Hair," the author set out to prove that "women have not been 'the long-haired sex' for as long as we believe." A sampling of Greek, Roman, and Persian traditions led him to conclude that "long hair appears just as frequently on men as on women when one examines history, which is why hair has nothing whatsoever to do with sexual character." 

Just as long hair did not make men less masculine, short hair would not eradicate women's femininity. In fact, some argued, it held the potential of actually heightening it by drawing attention to women's fine facial features. "The shape of the face, the beauty of the skin, as well as the soft lines of the neck" were accentuated by short hair, one barber wrote, poetically comparing a woman's face to a "painting [that] is also seen more clearly in a simple frame." In the case of modern dresses, fashion advocates had gradually managed to convince most critics of their compatibility with conventional womanhood. Short hair fared differently. 

Short, simple haircuts for women never gained acceptance in the 1920s, at least not among the men and women who publicly expressed their opinions. The controversy over women's hair only died down at the end of the decade, when a new, modified style of short hair became popular. Ironically, this new short style, which eventually appeased critics, emerged from the beauty salon run by women's hairdressers. Having been entirely unsuccessful in their attempts to coax women into preserving their long hair and eager to regain some of the professional territory lost to barbers, women's hairdressers found themselves forced to dispense with their rejection of the short fashions. 

Still unwilling, however, to embrace the bobbed look, they devised a new strategy. Arguing that short hair unfortunately had been "carried to extremes... by the less cultivated segments of the female population" and was sported by "each and every factory and shop-girl," (middle-class) women were offered a chance to distinguish themselves as "finer ladies" through "feminine and graceful styles with curls and waves" while they were waiting for their hair to grow out again. By fashioning themselves as aides to women concerned with the reestablishment of their femininity and by presenting their care for short hair as a form of damage control, hairdressers were able to legitimize their growing interest in women's new hairstyles. 

With relatively few ideological scruples they were therefore able to plunge into this profitable market during the last years of the 1920s, gradually recapturing the patronage of most women. However, that women left the barbershop and (re)turned to the beauty salon did not indicate that long hair was regaining its popularity. Fashionable hairstyles for women remained short for the rest of the decade. What did change was the way short hair actually looked. Female hairdressers, one fashion columnist noted with applause, did "everything to give the short style a more feminine air than earlier." 

Permanent waves and curls, artificial hair pieces, decorative combs, ribbons, and barrettes all contributed to this goal. This new, feminized version of short hair quickly gained popularity among women interested in variation and possibly weary of public hostility. Within just a few years the original simple, straight styles had virtually been abandoned. Customers, one hairdresser noted with pleasure in 1927, now wanted "to become more feminine, not with completely long hair, but with longer short hair, enough to be curly in the back and around the face .. . so that the repulsive boyish head becomes beautified and more feminine."

Thus, after a brief but troubling intermission where women's adoption of short hair seemed to be blurring gender differences, new curlier versions of bobbed hair marked the reestablishment of gender distinctions in fashionable self-presentation. Even though women continued to cut their hair, the clear stylistic differences between short hair for men and short hair for women soothed critics, and gradually their opposition faded. With their confidence in the stability of sexual difference restored, some of the harshest opponents were even able to admit a few years later that they actually found short hair quite charming and attractive—if not on their wives, then at least on their daughters.”

- Birgitte Soland, “The Emergence of the Modern Look.” in Becoming Modern: Young Women and the Reconstruction of Womanhood in the 1920s

[toongrrl-blog]

Fashion Analysis: Nancy’s Purple work dress and Others Part 1

Our girl updates Peggy Olson’s looks and Jonathan’s bargain finds illustrate Reagan era class politics, let’s roll.

So after pursuing a lead about what is going on in Hawkins, she and boyfriend/co-worker Jonathan Byers gets unceremoniously fired from their jobs and the working class Jonathan reads her the riot act for her obvious seat in economic privilege while she calls him out for not understanding her struggles with office misogyny. 

Before we dig in between the couple brought together by trauma, let’s look at Nancy’s dress.

This is a update of the dresses Peggy Olson wore in seasons 1-5 of Mad Men: defined waistline, a full or a-line skirt, a few bold details that command attention, the sense of innocent girlishness and unbridled ambition. Like the 1960s copy chief, Nancy is hampered by her gender in a misogynistic workplace where the only women that exist were: secretaries, wives, daughters, and bosomy beauty queens. Here are a few dresses of Peggy’s:

The feminine and gender neutral details (ruffles down the middle, defined waistline, buttons at the waist, a contrasting color against a main solid), the a-lines, the watches, the short and fashionable haircuts, ladylike shoes (we don’t see). This is the Working Girl uniform: whether you live in 1960s Manhattan or the 1980s small town in Indiana. The perfect dress for when you are dealing with workplace misogyny and how some people, even on your level, just don’t understand.

Moving on.

Department Store/Mall meet Thrift Store/Clearance Rack. Dad makes six figures in less than a year vs. “Me and Mom are both working to supplement the income and there is not much of a social safety net”. Workplace Misogyny and Workplace Elitism. Writer and Photographer. These two different people were brought together two years before by the trauma of losing or almost losing a loved one to a supernatural world and communicated over how the Patriarchy has had them witness strife in their parents’ marriage (her parents were a marriage of transaction while his parents were abusive partner and battered wife). One chafes against the image of perfection embodied and reinforced by her distant family while he strives for stability for his family and chafes against a society that misjudges his impoverished but loving family. 

Compared to his girlfriend’s fashionable dress, Jonathan in both pictures is wearing clothes he’d likely had for a while or bought super cheap and second-hand. Look at that tie and dress shirt, it looks like something that the guys from Creative in Mad Men wore in the late 60s. It’s also a look that he’s not at home in: he is clearly a t-shirt and jeans guy. The colors are also somber in comparison to his girlfriend; where she is in bright, saturated colors and her skirt flows with her movements, he is in neutral tones that reflect a cold, hard reality is far too aware of. 

Check Nancy’s hair, makeup, and dress colors: she feels free to express herself as she is protected by a veneer of respectability associated with her family while Jonathan has to toe the line and conform on the clock, as one wrong move could be detrimental to the economic survival of his family. 

[wizardnuke]

hi tony i am here to ask you about a very specific scenario: you are trapped on an island and there is a lot of vegetation but it's all weird and you don't know if you can eat it without Dying. also there are a lot of REALLY cute animals there like too cute to eat u just can't do it. one day you see a boat headed your way, with loads of people on it. would you rather this boat be the mayflower or the titanic? choose wisely.

- this is hilarious

- and this answer got a little out of hand

- please remember that I am the op of the accursed roanoke colony post

- also my brain short circuited because I have a bit of a migraine (pain isn't bad. brain thoughts are not quite there) and I mixed up the ships and instead of the mayflower my brain said susan constant which lead me to jamestown

- I did not fact check any of this.

- there are several factors to consider here

- presumably I can't tell the titanic people that they're going to hit an iceberg because of the butterfly effect, so that'll be rough, but since women and children were the first to get off the ship I have a good chance of surviving when they inevitably wreck

- would I be able to withstand the guilt of knowing what's going to happen without being able to tell them? that's debatable. so, onto option two:

- if I go with the susan constant, things become much more complicated. one, there's no saying that I'm not carrying a disease that the susan constant people (and titanic but they have a better chance) have never been in contact with and therefore have no immunity to, which would then kill them.

- that may not be a bad thing. anyway.

- let's say that I go with the susan constant, and we sail to the new world, and we establish the first successful european colony: jamestown.

- I've been to a reconstruction of jamestown. more than that, I've read a lot about it. because I'm a history person and, embarrassingly, My Thing is early american (including pre colonial, which is less embarrassing) history.

- do you know what happened at jamestown? for the sake of this thought experiment let's say that I somehow survived the first few years despite the diseases going around and just the scrutiny of the colonists bc of a hundred different little reasons that range from me not speaking their version of english to my haircut to me just being insufferable

- these europeans were hilariously unprepared for the climate and geography of this place. from 1606 to 1608 they were in contact with the powhatans, who helped them a lot, but then the europeans started being assholes and the powhatans cleared out, and they started fighting.

- they weren't prepared for the winter.

- the winter of 1609-1610 was called "the starving time". because, once again, they weren't prepared for the winter.

- they started with 300 colonists. that number dwindled over the years, and by the spring of 1610, there were only 60 left.

- not all of these colonists starved to death, unfortunately or not, though getting killed was probably less painful. some were killed by the powhatans. others were killed by their fellow colonists, because they went all lord of the flies on each other. and, because they were starving,

- the colonists of jamestown resorted to cannibalism to survive the winter.

- I am not nearly as good of a fighter as I like to think I am. I don't want to be bashed in the head by a scurvy ridden european man who hates me personally because I'm cool and sexy and can read and, as far as they're concerned, female, and because I wasn't a planned passenger for their trip to begin with and I don't even speak their version of english.

- I don't want to starve to death, be an inconvienence for the powhatans, or be cannibalized by the colonists of jamestown.

- I'd go with the titanic.

NOW, WITH THE FUCKING MAYFLOWER IN MIND:

- religious extremists, the lot of them

- I don't speak their version of english

- I would have made a nervous joke about speaking tongues

- and I would have kickstarted the witch trials by 80 years.

- let's say that I didn't. what would have happened? guess what happened. guess what happened when they arrived in plymouth. in what's now massachusetts, in the winter.

- it wasn't cannibalism! it was the other issue! disease! because they all bunked in the ship over the winter bc it was cold as fuck and they weren't prepared. they started with 102 people and they entered spring with 53.

- AND THEN THEY WENT BACK TO EUROPE. I DON'T WANT TO GO TO 1620S EUROPE. WITCH TRIALS, ANON. THEY WOULD HAVE HUNG ME.

[bewitching-elizabeth-olsen]

Press/Gallery: Elizabeth Olsen Is Ready to Lead the MCU

An ambitious new Disney+ series might just give the strongest Avenger the happy ending she deserves.

  GALLERY LINKS

Studio Photoshoots > 2021 > Session 001

  ELLE: We can’t keep meeting Elizabeth Olsen like this. By “this,” I mean in the throes of catastrophe or bereavement, or, to put it plainly, when she’s an emotional wreck. In the 2018 Facebook Watch drama Sorry For Your Loss, Olsen assumes the role of Leigh Shaw, a young widow grappling with the unexpected loss of her husband and all the painful nuisances that come with death: the unbearable waves of sadness, the clichéd condolences, a grief support group that runs out of donuts. At one point, Leigh says through a cracked voice, “I’m just mad all the time.” It’s hard not to draw parallels to Olsen’s other angry character. After all, ��mad” is exactly how 2015’s Avengers: Age of Ultron introduced us to Wanda Maximoff.

Defined by tragedy since her Marvel debut, Wanda (aka the Scarlet Witch) is an orphan with telekinetic powers. When not saving the world, she spends most of her time onscreen grieving the deaths of her parents, twin brother, or lover. Wanda’s never been allowed to fully exist outside the confines of her grief and anger, but with the launch of WandaVision—Marvel’s foray into serialized content for streaming—she may just be getting the happy ending she deserves.

Partly inspired by The Vision comic book, which follows synthezoid superhero Vision and his family as they move to the suburbs of Washington, D.C., the Disney+ series is an ode to the TV sitcoms we’ve come to love, with Wanda and Vision (Paul Bettany) basking in newlywed bliss—except Vision’s been very dead (killed twice, in fact) since the events of 2018’s Avengers: Infinity War. It’s unclear exactly how these starcrossed characters got to suburbia, but for now, it’s a delight to see the typically solemn duo sink their teeth into slapstick comedy.

“The show is like a blank slate for them,” Olsen tells me over Zoom, her light brown fringe a departure from Wanda’s red waves. The Scarlet Witch’s doleful glare is also long gone; in its place, Olsen’s eyes are wide with excitement. “Wanda and Vision’s journey to this point is a story of pure, innocent love and deep connection with another person,” she explains. “It was also very traumatizing. Tragedy has always been their story. In our show, we kind of wipe that clean and start fresh.”

But Wanda’s complicated past looms over WandaVision. Age of Ultron saw her and her twin brother, Pietro, initially opposing the Avengers (the siblings volunteered for a series of experiments with Hydra—a super evil organization within the MCU—after the deaths of their parents at the hands of Tony Stark’s Stark Industries) before switching sides to help save the Earth. The movie ends in victory for our superheroes, but yet another tragedy for Wanda when Pietro dies in battle. She finds comfort in the arms of Vision, an android created from the remains of Tony’s J.A.R.V.I.S. program, but even that bliss is short-lived. You see, Vision can only live with the help of the Mind Stone, which Mad Titan Thanos needs to take over the universe. In Infinity War, Vision asks Wanda to sacrifice him, and Wanda reluctantly agrees—but Thanos reverses time to gain control of the stone, killing the robot for a second time. Wanda’s pain is palpable: Imagine sacrificing the love of your life to save everyone else, just to watch him brought back to life and killed again—by the very villain you’re trying to defeat.

Though the thrill of playing a character with superhuman abilities is enticing for any actress, Olsen says it was Wanda’s internal battle with mental health that attracted her to the role in the first place. “[Joss Whedon] explained to me that Wanda Maximoff has always been this pillar of the struggle of mental health, from her pain and depression and traumatic experiences to how she completely alters the reality of the comics,” Olsen says of her early conversations with the Age of Ultron director. “The thing I held onto after reading the initial script was that she was not only powerful because of her abilities, but because of her emotions.”

In fact, MCU theorists would argue she’s one of, if not the, strongest Avenger. She can infiltrate the others’ minds to reveal their biggest fears (Age of Ultron). She can overpower Vision and send him plunging through several floors to break up a fight between warring superheroes (Avengers: Civil War). She can even bring Thanos to his knees, snapping his sword in half and forcibly removing his armor piece by piece (Infinity War).

Still, “they keep slapping her over the head with more grief,” Olsen quips.

As phase one of the Marvel Cinematic Universe began with the sound of clanging metal on May 2, 2008, phase four kicked off on January 15, 2021 with a kitschy 1950s sitcom theme: “She’s a magical gal in a small town locale / he’s a hubby who’s part machine / How will this duo fit in and pull through? Oh, by sharing a love / like you’ve never seen.”

With WandaVision, Marvel steers clear of the typical superhero trappings: no destructive battles at a Berlin airport or across the streets of New York City; no blonde-haired god time-traveling to other realms; no tree-like alien fight alongside a raccoon. Wandavision takes place after the events of Endgame in a fictional suburban town called Westview, and the biggest problem the newlyweds face in the show’s opening moments is creating a convincing backstory to get nosy neighbor Agnes (Kathryn Hahn) off their backs.

“They are just trying to fit in,” Olsen explains. “They’re trying to not be found out by their neighbors that they’re super-powered beings.” Now, if only we can figure out what the hell is actually going on. Olsen remains tight-lipped: “The reason it’s a sitcom shows itself later in the show,” she hints. “When Kevin [Feige] told me, it didn’t feel so bizarre. It felt like a great way to start our story.”

“With our show, you don’t know what the villain is, or if there is one at all.”

So, is Wanda stuck in the first stage of grief, denial? Has she altered reality as a coping mechanism for Vision’s death? Is she being held hostage by a terrorist organization (ahem, Hydra!)? One thing we do know is that someone is watching the couple and taking notes. At the end of episode 1, the camera pans out from a retro TV playing an episode of WandaVision (meta!) to show a hand jotting down notes. There’s a strange sword symbol on the notebook and a nearby control board, and in episode 2, the same sign appears on a toy helicopter lodged in the couple’s front yard. Later, when a mysterious beekeeper crawls out of the sewer on the couple’s street, the symbol is seen on the back of his suit. In its 20-plus movies, Marvel villains have always existed in plain sight. But with a new, less obvious darkness lurking at every turn, Wanda may have to return to her world-saving roots.

“Someone said to me when you watch any of these hero movies, you know when the villain’s about to show themselves, and you also have an idea of who the villain is,” Olsen says. “With our show, you don’t know what the villain is, or if there is one at all.” For now, WandaVision allows for glimmers of hope and optimism for Wanda and Vision, despite what darkness tries to threaten their happiness. “Wanda is trying to protect everything in her bubble, protect what she and Vision have and this experience,” Olsen says. “I think everything she does is in response to keeping things together.”

In addition to exploding the concept of the superhero onscreen, WandaVision toys with a different era of TV in each episode. The pilot takes viewers to the ‘50s with an episode filmed in front of a live studio audience, and Wanda dresses up in the quintessential housewife garb, not a hair out of place in her voluminous bob. By the time we click on episode 2, she trades in her apron and kitten heels for a more pared-down ‘60s look, while episode 3 gives a nod to the ‘70s, complete with a Brady Bunch-style staircase and a shag haircut for Vision.

While dressing up was the fun part, time-hopping through the eras required a lot of binge-watching old sitcoms to get the mannerisms down right. Olsen studied series like The Dick Van Dyke Show, The Brady Bunch, The Mary Tyler Moore Show, and Bewitched to “understand the tones of each era” and get a grasp of how Wanda and Vision should act as a couple. (One of her favorite TV pairings was Jane Kaczmarek and Bryan Cranston from Malcolm in the Middle.) She was fascinated by the way female characters evolved through the decades: “You have to learn appropriate manners—what’s considered being polite or proper. That coincides with women’s voices changing,” she explains. “I enjoyed challenging myself to match the syntax and the lyricism. I live in a very chest-register kind of deep voice. I had to remember not to bring it up at certain moments.”

For so long, Wanda served as a supporting character to Marvel’s biggest names, and the formulaic mundanity of the major theatrical releases made it easy to get comfortable. WandaVision offered Olsen a much-needed challenge. “I’ve only been working for 10 years, but there is this feeling where you start to get comfortable,” she says. “WandaVision was the furthest thing from comfortable for me. It felt intimidating. The character is a completely different thing.”

And fans hoping for a little Marvel action won’t be disappointed. “We still live up to what Marvel does,” she promises. “We just tell the story in a completely different way. It’s a very emotional, female story and it’s a story they haven’t told yet for either of our characters.” Whatever your theory is, keep the cliché condolences to yourself. No one will be uttering, “Sorry for your loss” in Wanda’s world.

Press/Gallery: Elizabeth Olsen Is Ready to Lead the MCU was originally published on Elizabeth Olsen Source • Your source for everything Elizabeth Olsen

[shorthairstylesss]

Short haircuts for women over 60

[alarawriting]

The Cold At The Heart of the Light: Chapter One

I’ve decided I’ll post probably the first three chapters of this as I work on it. There’s currently six chapters written and the seventh is started; I have been planning about twelve of them.

This is gonna have to be edited a lot when I finish the whole thing -- it’s too goddamn long, for one thing -- but I can’t spend too much time editing the first draft when I’m not done with it.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

As soon as the maid led me to the living room and I got my first look at the little girl, I could tell the child was dying.  She was sitting on an overstuffed, white suede couch with brown fringy pillows all around her, at the back of a living room that looked like something out of House Beautiful, all tall wide windows and understated elegance in brown and beige and gold and white. She was maybe about seven, if her disease hadn’t undersized her, feet dangling off the couch and not moving. When children whose feet are dangling are not kicking those feet, and there is neither a book nor a TV nearby to explain the discrepancy, I can generally tell something is wrong. Her blonde curly wig was as expensive as the décor of her parents’ living room, but I’m an expert in these matters – I could tell the chemo had taken her hair. And her skin was dull and dry looking, her eyes vague and unfocused, her expression indrawn and blank, her small limbs painfully skinny.  She showed all the signs of either being abused, drugged, or severely ill, and given that her father had called me in, I knew that at least it was the last. Probably the second as well.  The pharmaceutical industry has never solved the problem of stopping children’s pain to my satisfaction (or, for that matter, the children’s.)

Her mother would have been an elegantly plastic politician’s wife if she hadn’t been sitting tensely at the edge of the sofa, arm around her daughter, clutching the child. Fear and anxiety make even women with $500 haircuts and botoxed foreheads seem human. I’d already forgotten the woman’s name; after checking over the daughter with a quick glance, I turned to focus on her father. Senator John Lightman, one of those politicians who manages to look “boyish” simply by being a thin dark-haired man in his prime when everyone else in the Senate is somewhere between 60 and dead, was walking toward me, reaching out a hand as if to shake it. I saw the look of puzzlement cross his face as he got a good look at me. “Are you…”

“Dr. Mystery?” I filled in the blank. “Yes, of course, I apologize. You couldn’t possibly recognize me like this.”  I had arrived in a stock form, a middle-aged woman of average height, weight and appearance with blonde graying hair in a short fluffy do.  I couldn’t very well drive around town in my working form, but now that I was here, it was time to shock and awe the mundanes.  With a thought, I transformed.

When I first adopted this as my working form, it used to take me ten or twenty minutes in front of a mirror to get it just right, because it doesn’t look human enough for me to use DNA as a model anywhere – I have to brute-force it. But by this time I’d been doing it for so many years, it took only a few seconds. Changing doesn’t hurt – it feels like having a really good stretch, actually.  

In a moment, I was six feet tall, simultaneously busty and thin, with the golden skin of an Academy award, iris-less purple eyes with cat pupils, and flame-red hair down to the small of my back.  I wore a skin-tight black leather catsuit with no shoes, and modified pelvis and leg muscles so I looked like I was wearing high heels even though I was barefoot – an anatomic impossibility for other women, but there’s no point in having total control over your own flesh if you can’t use it to show off a little.  To complete the costume I grew a white cotton labcoat over the catsuit; not exactly a cape, but the name is Doctor Mystery, not Ms. Mystery or Lady Mystery or Sexy Chick I’d Like To Do Mystery.  

Being a supervillain’s all about the power and the respect.  Back when my working form wasn’t quite so do-me hot, I actually used to get less respect as a villain, as if a woman couldn’t possibly really be all that mad, bad and dangerous to know if she doesn’t look like a supermodel.  But when I do the catsuit without the lab coat, I get respect as a badass with dangerous powers and incredible fighting skills, not as a biomedical genius.  Not that I’m not a badass with dangerous powers and incredible fighting skills, but I’m not a teen thug for hire anymore, I’m a bona fide mad scientist and I want people to remember that, dammit.  

Mrs. Lightman’s eyes went wide, and she made a tiny little yelping noise and clutched her little girl… who rather than looking frightened, actually looked mildly interested for the first time since I’d arrived.  Her dad was trying to hide it, but his lips had compressed as if he were trying not to bite them and there was just the tiniest tremor in his hands.  I expected Mrs. Lightman’s reaction, but the Senator could have gone one of two ways – men usually react to me with fear or lust, or a combination.  I didn’t think I saw lust in Senator Lightman, and when I took his hand and shook it, I confirmed it.  He was on the verge of peeing his pants.  I might have believed he wasn’t reacting with any lust because he really had eyes only for his wife, if he weren’t a politician.  But I’ve known very few male politicians to be faithful, and even they couldn’t avoid being lustful.  Senator Lightman was terrified of me because I was a Proxima and he was a Sapien-centric bigot.  Also, probably, because I was a supervillain and a killer and I could drop him dead in a second, turn him inside out, make the skin melt off his flesh or give him cancer, just from the touch of his hand in mine.  But I suspected I’d have gotten the same reaction if I’d been a member of the Peace Force, or even a Girl Scout with purple eyes and gold skin trying to sell him cookies.  He hated my kind, but he needed me today.

And I intended to use his need to my people’s advantage.

“Introduce me to your family, Senator,” I said.

I felt his adrenaline spike through the skin connection of our clasped hands, but he managed not to show it.  He let go of me.  “This is my wife, Dot, and our daughter Mindy.  She’s eight.”

I walked over to Mindy and knelt down in front of her, prompting more tension and white knuckles from her mother clasping her.  “Hello, Mindy,” I said.

“Hi,” she mumbled.

“Do you know who I am?”

“My daddy says you’re some kind of super doctor.”

Super doctor. I liked that.  “He’s right.  I’m here to help you.  I imagine you’ve gotten real tired of being sick.”

She smiled wanly.  “Yeah.”

“Let me have your hands.”

“Will it hurt?”  Her tone was tired and apathetic, as if it didn’t really matter if it was going to hurt or not.  I suspected it was more resignation than apathy.

“Not at all.”  I smiled at her.  “I’m a super doctor, remember?  It doesn’t hurt if I don’t want it to.”  

She gave me her small hands and I clasped them in mine.  I can’t entirely describe what I feel when I examine a living creature, not in terms that refer to the senses everyone else has.  It’s like feeling a symphony or hearing a tapestry.  Everything is very complex and interrelated, and I get signals from thousands of processes in the body, but it all melds together into a single big picture.  The big picture here was that Mindy’s body was attacking itself.  Her bone marrow was busily churning out cancerous white blood cells that didn’t work, filling her bloodstream with useless cells that crowded out and starved the working, useful ones.  The pain signals were overwhelming even with the drugs trying to mask them, and the drugs themselves were dulling her mind as much as the fatigue and weakness from the disease.

Like many terminally ill children, she was quiet and accepting, which is constantly mistaken in glurgy human interest stories about terminally ill children for bravery.  Children who go out with scarves on their bald heads and run lemonade stands to raise money to research and cure their own illnesses are brave.  Children who are too tired to feel fear and have been living with a disease too long to cry about it are just normal human beings.  Mindy was a normal human being, and her leukemia was also perfectly normal, something I’d dealt with a hundred times before.  

I closed my eyes so I could focus better on Mindy’s internal world.  First I triggered the release of endorphins into her bloodstream to mask any pain caused by what I was about to do.  The human body rebels against my power, seeing my authority as a violation of its autonomy, and frequently reacts by tattling to the brain about it in a way that the mind perceives as agonizing, but unspecific, pain.  As I told Mindy, though, no one feels pain in my hands unless I allow it.  As soon as her body was saturated with endorphins and I’d shut down most of the internal sensory trunk lines to the brain, making her internally numb while leaving her ability to sense anything touching her skin, I swept my concentration through her body and killed every immature white blood cell she had.  I then targeted the surviving mature white cells and forced them to rapidly replicate and mature, until she had almost a normal white blood cell count and they all worked correctly.

To finish off, I blocked the drugs that hadn’t been working so well anyway, turned the internal nerves back on, and filled Mindy with a combination of endorphin and oxytocin, and other hormones designed to make people feel good.  This particular cocktail wouldn’t have sexual effects – Mindy’s brain lacked some of the structures needed to process that, yet, and I always took great care with children not to do anything inappropriate to their age.  After what my own father did to me… well, I may be a supervillain, but I am not a child molester, and that makes me better than he was.  What I was going for – what I always gave the children I treated – can be best described, if you remember being a kid, as the excitement from knowing you’re about to go to an amusement park, coupled with the pleasure you get from eating ice cream, and all that combined with the warm snuggly feeling you get when you’re cuddled with your parents.  Mindy wouldn’t know why, in the future, she looked forward to my visits and felt very warm and positive emotions toward me.  She would just know that seeing Dr. Mystery would be the coolest thing ever, and just my presence would be more fun than any doctor’s office lollipop ever was.

Combine such warm and pleasant emotions with the freakish physical appearance of an obvious Proxima, and Mindy would not grow up to share her dad’s bigotry, even if he tried to teach it to her.

“Mindy?” Dot Lightman asked, her voice trembling slightly.  “Are you all right?”

Mindy lifted her head.  Her skin didn’t look any better, of course – I hadn’t done any cosmetic work – but her eyes were refocusing, turning bright and engaged.  “Mommy?  I feel good, Mommy.  I think the doctor fixed me!”

With my endorphin cocktail chasing away her fatigue temporarily, she leapt to her feet.  “Thank you, Super Doctor Mystery!  I feel all better!”  She twirled around, perhaps to prove to all of us that she was fully healed… and stumbled.  “Whoa, dizzy!”

“Slow up there, kiddo,” I said.  “You’re not cured.  You feel a lot better and you’re going to be a lot better, but you’ve spent a couple of years being sick and you’re not going to be back to your full strength overnight.  Take it easy.”

“Is she—is she going to be cured?” her mother asked, looking at me, her lower lip trembling.

“She’s much healthier, right now.  But no, as I said, I haven’t cured her yet.  I triggered a temporary remission and bolstered her immune system to compensate for what the disease did to it, so she needn’t suffer while she’s waiting for a full cure.”  I turned to Senator Lightman.  “To cure her, I’ll need to perform three treatments, about two months apart.  The cost will be $8,000 per treatment.  When we’re done, not only won’t she have leukemia, but the genetic potential for cancer will be purged from her system, so it will be very, very unlikely that she ever get any cancer-like disease again.  Short of living on top of a radioactive landfill, of course, but you understand what I mean.”

“Oh, God….” Mrs. Lightman started to cry.  “Oh, God, thank you…”

“Don’t cry, Mommy,” Mindy said, and gave her mom a hug.  “It’s good news. Don’t cry.”

“I’m crying because I’m so happy,” Mrs. Lightman said.

“I—I don’t know what to say, Doctor.  You have a deal.  I’d pay anything to save Mindy’s life, and your prices… well, they’re much more reasonable than I was led to assume.  I’d pay more than that for hospital treatments, even with the insurance.”  I was pretty sure this was a fib – Senators get damn good health insurance.  But of course Lightman belonged to the party that thought that health insurance was a privilege, not a right, and downplaying the high quality of his own state-sponsored insurance was probably a reflex by this point.  

I smiled at him.  “That’s because most of my payment is non-monetary.”

“Non-monetary?”

“Let’s go have a discussion, Senator.  I imagine you must have a private office in this house somewhere?”

His wife gave me a hard-eyed look. I returned her look with an “oh, please” expression, just the slightest of eye rolls and sardonic smile.  “There’s nothing you can say to me that you can’t say in front of my wife,” Lightman said, his voice hardening.

“Yes, there is,” I said, pleasantly.  “You want to tell her all about it when we’re done talking, that’s your prerogative.  But I am here to negotiate with a United States Senator, not a husband or a father.”

He stiffened.  “All right,” he said slowly.  “We can go downstairs to the den.”

“Is it—is it going to be all right?” Dot Lightman asked her husband.

“I don’t see that I have much choice, Dot,” he said.  “She’s the only hope Mindy has.  You know that.”

“Mommy? Can I play outside?”

“Sure.  Sure thing,” Dot said, her voice breaking again.  “I’ll play with you.”

“Don’t let her overexert herself,” I said.  “As I said, she’s better, not cured, and even if she were cured she’d still need time to recover her energy. She wants to run around and play now because she’s not in pain, but she actually still does need to save her strength.”

“We’ll go for a walk,” Dot said.  “How’s that sound, Mindy?”

“Sure, Mommy. We can do that.”

“The den is this way,” Senator Lightman said.

It was a typical suburban finished basement, not nearly as fancy looking as the living room, if you didn’t count the huge projection television.  I perched on the still-nice-but-obviously-worn couch, sitting on the back of it.  “Let’s get down to it, Senator,” I said.  “You’re a member of the Committee to Analyze Parahuman Activity.  You’re aware as well as I am that the United States government has been investigating or implementing various techniques to control or eliminate the Proxima population, including laws to create a registry for us as if we’re sex offenders, black ops soldiers with power suits to hunt us down, attempting to find cures for us like we’re a disease, secret databases being maintained in an attempt to identify us in the absence of a registry law… so on and so forth.”  I didn’t mention the biowarfare; people who didn’t live through being imprisoned in a government research facility and watching others being injected with various tailored viruses have a tendency to assume that government biowarfare is the stuff of paranoid conspiracy theories, and I doubted anyone had actually let Congress know what was going on there.  The others, I was pretty sure he’d been briefed on, if not actively involved with.  “And you’re an active supporter of the Human Definition Amendment, which would deprive us of any human rights whatsoever on the basis of junk science.”

The faintest beading of sweat broke out on his forehead.  “The United States government hasn’t taken any illegal actions to ‘control’ the Proxima population, as you put it, and certainly not to eliminate you.  You must understand, however, that we do have the right and the duty to protect normal humans from people like…”

He hesitated just a moment too long. “Me?”

“I was going to say, people like Caesar Primus or Optometron.  But if the rumors about your activities are true, then yes, you.  Weren’t you some sort of assassin?  An enforcer for a drug lord?”

While technically the description was almost true, the idea of describing David as a “drug lord” almost made me laugh.  Almost.  I don’t actually have a lot of a sense of humor when it comes to David.  “And I was rehabilitated by the Peace Force and today I’m a fine, upstanding citizen who cures little girls of leukemia,” I said.  

“That isn’t a lot of comfort to the families of the people you killed.”

“Maybe not.  But if I’d been killed by American soldiers in power suits then, your daughter would be out of luck now, wouldn’t she?”  I slid off the back of the couch and paced around him.  “And this isn’t about me.  How many people were saved when the Irregulars stopped that second plane from crashing into the Trade Towers?  When they held up the collapsing building so the firefighters could get out?  When the Peace Force shored up the levees in New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina so the city didn’t flood, or when Maui’s volcano went active and they shut it down again?”  The Senator didn’t actually need to know that was a plot of Professor Octohedron’s, if he didn’t already. The Peace Force hadn’t actually broadcast the fact that the disaster had been caused by a Proxima in the first place; I only knew about it because Octohedron continued to believe that he could get into my pants if only he could impress me enough, and he hadn’t actually ever managed to figure out that I wasn’t impressed by grandiose plots to take over the world by threatening to activate volcanoes.  “You might owe your life to a Proxima. You are about to owe your daughter’s life.  So I want your support for our basic human rights.  Oppose the Parahuman Registry, oppose the research to kill us or break us of our powers, and oppose the Human Definition Amendment.”

“The Human Definition Amendment isn’t designed to take away your human rights,” he said.  “It’s designed to clarify the rights you do have.  I mean, there have to be different ways to handle you people vs. the rest of us.  Remember when the ACLU sued on behalf of the Heat Miser?  They said that it was cruel and unusual punishment to keep him continuously drugged in prison. And as soon as they won and the drugs were withdrawn, his powers came back and he burned the prison down. 700 people were killed, over 100 guards and the rest of them human inmates, who’d been sentenced to serve time in jail for their crimes, not to burn to death.”

“Then you redefine cruel and unusual punishment to state that methods intended to block Proximas from using superhuman powers to escape from prison are not cruel and are perfectly usual.  Passing an amendment to the Constitution that declares that Proximas aren’t human is overkill.”

“It actually declares that humans belong to the subspecies Homo sapiens sapiens, and that the law should not be automatically extended to grant human rights to people who can destroy our entire planet with a thought just because some bleeding heart doesn’t think they deserve to go to jail for killing hundreds of people.”

“Yes, and by declaring that Homo sapiens promixus does not automatically count as human, it effectively says that we’re not, and we can be shot on sight with no one but the ASPCA to worry about our murders, let alone suffer discrimination in every part of our lives.  You do not live with the reality of what being defined as non-human means, Senator.  I do.”

“And you, Doctor, don’t live with the reality of inhabiting a world filled with creatures who can kill you with a thought, steal everything you own, destroy your home without even touching it, or make you believe that up is down and black is white.”  

I could argue that last point, if I wanted to be a smartass – I lived in the world where there was conservative talk radio, and it had convinced any number of people that up was down and black was white.  But that would be sidetracking.  “True.  But you’re so focused on perceiving yourself as a victim of the existence of Proximas that you’ve given no thought to what it would be like to be one of us. And you really should.  Because you have a child, Senator, and she is too young to be confirmed as Sapien or Proxima.  You don’t know what she is, and you’re just assuming she’s Sapien.  What if she’s Proxima?”

He blinked.  “Well, of course I—but she doesn’t have anything in her background – I mean neither her mother nor I have anything unusual, genetically—“

“No one knows what’s causing the sudden explosion in powered humans, Senator, but we do know that it’s some type of mutation.  90% of Proximas have parents who were Sapien.  And the number is that low only because some of us have started having kids.  If your daughter was a Proxima with two fully Sapien parents, she’d be in the same boat as most Proximas. Including me.  So you really need to think about it.”

“Well, I – I certainly wouldn’t treat Mindy any differently if she were – but if she were, you’d know, wouldn’t you?”

“I didn’t check for it.  But I could, yes.”

“Well, if she turned out to be, you could just fix it, right?  As part of the treatment?”

I stared at him as if I’d just found him on my shoe.  “Of course I could. And if she was black, I could make her white and blonde and blue-eyed. And I could change her into a boy if you decided you really wanted a son.  Have you any idea how offensive what you just said is?”

“I – I didn’t mean to give offense.  I just want Mindy to have a normal life.”

“Most Proximas do. I don't look like this all the time, Senator.  When I'm not treating hopeless cases, I live in a nice little townhouse, with two cats and a cockatiel.  I go dancing with men friends on weekends, I buy groceries, I do my laundry.  I choose to look like this when I'm treating people like your daughter, because I have no desire to be kidnapped and pressed into the service of crime lords or the government."

"Why would the government kidnap you?  Proximas have rights.  If you’ve served your time for your previous crimes, and committed no new ones--"

"--I would still have the power to make old men young, cure impotence and infertility, heal disease and scarring, change people's appearances... come on now, Senator, don't be naive.  If you had a way to make me heal your daughter without paying my price, you'd do it.  And I think you're basically a good man, who’s concerned for the child he loves.  Can you say none of your colleagues would want me to heal them?  To restore lost youth, or whatever they had lost?"  I thought of the white room then, the snipers with guns outside ready to blow my head off if the important old men screaming under my hands didn’t get up and walk free completely healed when I was done. Never again.  

"I... suppose power corrupts.  There are some bad elements in any system, but that doesn't mean the system is evil."

"I didn’t say the system was evil.  I said it’s not designed to protect people like me.  And if you and your fellows have their way, it’ll be even harder for me to live a normal, safe life.”  I shook my head.  "We're sidetracking.  If Mindy turns out to be a Proxima, she could still have an entirely normal and happy life, so long as you didn't reject her for it and the government didn't kill her for it."

"I would never reject Mindy.  No matter what.  If-- if she was a parahuman--"

"Then your opinions on appropriate treatment of Proximas would be rather different, wouldn't they?"

He sighed.  “Look, I have a constituency, Doctor Mystery.  They elected me into office to protect them and serve them, and they have ideas as to what constitutes doing that.  If I do something that they don’t approve of, I won’t have the power they’ve given me for very long.”

I flopped down on his couch again.  “Oh, baloney.  You mean that if you can’t fearmonger about hidden Proximas living among us and the draconian measures the Daddy State will take under your watch to protect the poor scared soccer moms and NASCAR dads, you can’t get elected.”  I sat up and leaned forward.  “It’s all bullshit. The tide of history always favors greater human rights, greater freedoms, greater protections for minorities vs. mobs.  And it always works out better in the end that way.  I understand that you have to protect yourself from lunatics who shoot death rays out of their elbows, but you know, you also have to protect yourself from lunatics who break into the McDonalds’ with a gun and start shooting people, and somehow it was your party who decided it was an unacceptable infringement on your freedom to hunt, shoot intruders, and generally feel like manly men to make people undergo background checks to get assault weapons.”

“The Constitution guarantees the right to bear arms.”

“The Constitution wouldn’t say that if you passed an amendment redefining a ‘well-regulated militia’ as the National Guard.  Which I’m not saying you should.  I’m in favor of your right to protect yourself with a gun. I’m in favor of your right to shoot animals for fun if you feel like it; I’m a Darwinist and you’re a predator.  It’s in your genes.  Go shoot deer if you want.  But the Constitution currently states that I am a human being, because it doesn’t say that I’m not, and I was born in the United States to two human beings, share 99.9% of my DNA with you, speak your language, look like you, and have sex with you.  Well, not you personally, but Sapiens men.  So if it’s so vitally important to preserve the right to bear arms, because it’s in the Constitution, that it’s okay to let sociopaths get guns and shoot up college campuses, then it is vastly more important to make sure that every child born in this country to human parents is defined as human.  

“If you pass this Definition of Humanity amendment in order to protect your constituency, and Mindy turns out to be a Proxima, then she can be raped and her rapist could be charged with bestiality at best, because she wouldn’t be legally a child who can be molested, she’d be legally an animal. She could be killed, and the most her killer could be charged with is animal cruelty. No school would have to take her, no hospital would have to treat her diseases, no restaurant would have to let her in to eat with you.  You would have to fight a battle to get her treated in a way that you humans take for granted, every time.  Want her to die in a car accident because the paramedics didn’t want to treat a Proxima?  Want her to die in a fire because the firefighters didn’t want to risk themselves going into a burning building for someone who isn’t even human?  There are better ways to defend Sapiens than making it legally open season on us.”

“But you’re against those too. The Parahuman Registry would allow us to track dangerous people without having to deprive any of you of basic civil rights.”

“Except I’ve never heard of a version of it suggesting that only parahuman criminals be added to the registry.”

“Well, dangerous parahumans haven’t necessarily committed crimes yet.  But for instance, if your next door neighbor turns up dead of a heart attack and everyone knows you were fighting with him, isn’t it important that the police know you have the power to stop people’s hearts by touching them?”

“If your next door neighbor has a gun, isn’t it important that you know about it so you can keep your daughter from playing in his yard?”

“Most gun owners are law abiding citizens, and if someone is killed with a gun we already have laws on the books to help the police track down the killer.  If someone is killed with a superpower, we wouldn’t even necessarily know to look for a superpower.”

“So educate the cops better on superpowers.  Most Proximas are law abiding citizens.  If you kill your neighbor by hitting him over the head with a frying pan, does that mean you needed to be on some sort of registry of frying pan owners?”  I started pacing again.  “It’s irrelevant in any case.  I don’t care what your personal beliefs are.  I care that you love your daughter and want her to be healthy.”

“So you’re blackmailing me.”

“Blackmail?  I’m demanding payment.  When your campaign contributors give you money for re-election, they’re not blackmailing you to expect that you’re going to show them some quid pro quo. I’m offering you something far, far more valuable than a few dollars in your re-election coffers; I’m offering you your daughter’s life and health.  I think expecting a little quid pro quo is not unreasonable.”

“And what if I refused?  Would you let her die?”

At one point that would have been a tough one; in this line of work you have to appear to be compassionate, but you also have to be tough or the patients will walk all over you.  I had had plenty of experience dealing with this particular conundrum, though.  “Do you know what I did for Mindy today?  Do you understand her disease at all?”

“I don’t know what you did, no. You keep saying you made her better but you didn’t cure her.  But I do know something about her disease.  The doctors tell me that she’s making too many white blood cells, and it’s crowding out and killing the rest of her blood.”

“Close.  They’re immature, cancerous blood cells, so they don’t work to protect her from disease the way mature white blood cells would.  This lowers her general immunity, and yes, it clogs up her bloodstream and takes resource away from working cells.  What I did today was to kill all the immature cells and regenerate some of the mature ones.  She still has leukemia; she’s still making too many immature cells.  Without a full treatment that will never stop.  What I’ve done is to ease her symptoms.  Until she builds up too many immature cells again, she’ll feel better.”  I leaned on the wall, arms folded.  “I’m perfectly capable of doing this every six months and never actually curing her.  She’ll feel better, and she’ll have a happy, normal life, as long as she gets her treatments on time.  The one time she misses a treatment, though – maybe because the government kidnapped me, arrested me, killed me or took my powers away – she’ll have full-blown leukemia again, and within a year or two she’ll die.”  I pushed off the wall.  “So you can support me up front because it’s the right thing to do for the person who gave you back your daughter’s life, or you can hedge and haw and refuse to get with my program, and if so your daughter will be well for exactly as long as I am able to continue treating her.  The very laws you want to pass that will harm me, will block my ability to heal her sooner or later, and then she’ll die, and it’ll be your fault.”

“And how do I know that if I promise to do as you ask, you really will heal Mindy and you won’t just do what you just said?”

“How do I know that if I really heal Mindy, you won’t go back on your word and start pushing for the Human Definition Amendment again?  It’s a matter of trust, Senator.  You trust me, I trust you.  Or you don’t trust me, I don’t trust you.  Tit for tat.  What’s it going to be?”

He took a deep breath.  “I’m not going to just rubber stamp your suggestions.  Even if that was the right thing to do for my constituency, and it’s not.  I’m going to study the situation and try to do the best thing to protect my people and yours.  You can accept that or not.”

“All right, I’ll accept that, with one caveat.  The Human Definition Amendment is totally off-limits.  You can switch your support to the Inclusive Humanity Amendment, or just drop your support of Human Definition, but if you don’t publicly do one or the other within the month Mindy does not get fully cured.  The other stuff, do the studies you want to do, but I think you’ll find that when you look at Proximas as if we are people and not weird animal things with superpowers, you’ll find it a lot easier to come up with ways to help protect your kind without harming mine.”

Lightman nodded.  “All right, Doctor.  Then we have a deal.  When do you want to perform the first treatment?”

“If you’ve got $8,000 lying around in a checking account, we can do it today.”

“I do.  Who do I make the check out to?  I don’t imagine you can cash a check made out to Doctor Mystery.”

“Make it out to Miracle of Life, LLC.”  I had about twenty-seven of these shell companies I used to funnel my various payments through, since even Senators typically had a hard time coming up with $8,000 in small unmarked bills on short notice, and a girl’s gotta eat.  Playing politics is all well and good, but I needed to cover the mortgage and the gas money for my various trips to clients, plus the funds for my various Activities of Mad Science.  Just because you can manipulate any organic tissue with a touch, doesn’t mean you get your beakers and retorts and Petri dishes for free.  “Let’s go upstairs.  I’m sure Mindy is eager to begin freeing herself from this disease.”

“Of course.”

At the top of the stairs, I reached out for his hand.  Too afraid of giving offense to refuse me, he took it, and I shook with him.  “Pleasure doing business with you, Senator.  Go call your daughter in, give me a check and we’ll do this thing.”

“Thank you, Dr. Mystery.  I may not entirely approve of your politics, but thank you for giving my daughter back her life.”

He wouldn’t be thanking me so much if he had known I’d just planted a tiny clump of slow-growing cancerous cells deep in his brain.  It’d be a year from now before he started feeling any symptoms, and that would land in the middle of his re-election campaign.  If he did what I wanted after I finished healing his daughter and we were on good terms, I’d find some excuse to come by and heal him or prune it down again.  If not… there was a reason I was a feared supervillain even though most people knew me, if they knew me at all, as some kind of uber-doctor.  You didn’t double-cross Dr. Mystery and survive it.  Ever.

Well, unless you were Dr. Suryabati Chandrasekhar.  Then you got any number of free passes.

***

The truth was, I was being something of a hypocrite.

I was offended at Lightman’s suggestion that I make his daughter a Sapiens if she turned out to be a Proxima, but not for the reason I told him.  The difference between a Proxima becoming a Sapien and a Sapien becoming Proxima isn’t the difference between black changing to white or male changing to female.  The difference was described by Plato as a man raised in the darkness leaving the cave to see the light of the sun, vs. a man raised in the sunlight doomed to spend the rest of his life in a cave.  Making a Proxima a Sapiens is like giving someone a lobotomy, or a clitoridectomy, or binding her feet until she can’t walk.  It’s an obscenity, a Harrison Bergeron nightmare of breaking the best down to the level of the mediocre, taking away a birthright one was born with.  

Making a Sapien a Proxima is, on the other hand, one of my great callings in life.

Mindy Lightman wasn’t a Proxima before I touched her.  But she would be, before I was done.  I did a preliminary assessment of her DNA while I was performing the first treatment, and I stored a small amount of her cellular matter in a pocket under the skin of my hand, to study at length later. I’d determine how much energy her mitochondria could supply her and which latent powers-complex genes she had, and which powers they were likely to ignite into.  If she had something distressing, like death touch or world-shattering TK or the gene for turning blue, I’d edit the complex over the next two sessions into something more palatable for the child of a public figure, something frilly and unthreatening.  Maybe the ability to make pretty light shows, or fly.  Most flyers loved it, and it didn’t seem to frighten Sapiens as much as some other powers did.

When I left the Lightmans’, now back in my middle-aged lady persona, I headed first to the bank to deposit the check.  Senators whose daughter’s lives are on the line don’t give me checks that bounce, but they do take time to clear, so the sooner I got it in, the better.  And then I dumped the rental car at the airport, changed form in the bathroom, and got on the Metro to head back home.

****

Science fact: There is only one gene that determines the difference between a Sapiens and a Proxima.

To most people this seems insane.  Proximas come in an entire extra range of colors besides the human norm, have powers ordinary humans can only dream of, and get energy to fuel these powers from a source that is frankly incomprehensible.  We just have to be a separate species, in most people’s minds.  When Proximas were first discovered, there was a huge push to label us a fully separate species – Homo superior (thankfully, that one got shot down real fast) or Homo proximus, “the man who comes next.”  Scientists – not me at the time, since I was too young, but reputable geneticists and biologists – had to constantly point out that the definition of a species is that they cannot viably interbreed.  The children of superpowered and ordinary humans were themselves perfectly fertile. Ergo, we cannot be a separate species.

But we hadn’t mapped the genome then, and we didn’t know exactly why Proximas had powers.  So scientists made, in my opinion, a mistake.  They agreed to classify us as a separate sub-species.

You’ve grown up being told that you are Homo sapiens.  What you might not know is that technically, if you’re not a parahuman, you are actually Homo sapiens sapiens.  There were several other subspecies of humans, all extinct, such as Homo sapiens idaltu (elderly wise man).  It is still scientific nonsense to call us a subspecies, when we’re only different by one gene – to put this in perspective, parents and children differ by many, many more than one gene – and in fact the International Commission on Zoological Nomenclature keeps debating changing it to Homo sapiens sapiens proximus or dropping the designate proximus entirely. But the scientific evidence that we aren’t even a separate subspecies gets even less play in the media than studies that show that men and women are alike, if such a thing is possible.  And at least the Homo sapiens proximus nomenclature reinforces that we are of the human species.

The trouble is, most people don’t know that the true name of Homo sapiens is actually Homo sapiens sapiens.  So when they hear the short designators – Sapiens vs. Proxima – they assume that our species is Homo proximus.  We’re widely believed to be an entirely separate species, and it doesn’t help that high-profile supervillains like Caesar Primus (who is 2,000 years old and knows as much as any Roman gladiator about science, which is to say, diddly jack), or Professor Octohedron (a brilliant physicist and inventor, but he knows about as much biology as I know about fixing my car, and let me put it this way, the last time I ended up dead on the side of the road I needed a friendly dude passing by to tell me I’d run out of oil) are constantly spouting off about how we are a new, superior species.  Informed laypeople and doctors usually know better, but the truth – that we are different by only one gene – is so appallingly counterintuitive that you almost need to be a geneticist or an evolutionary biologist to get it.

But here’s the truth.

The human genome is packed with genes that don’t do anything.  Most come from our evolutionary history. You may have heard that we are less than 1% genetically different from chimpanzees.  That 1% consists mostly of control genes, which govern when, how and if the other genes turn on.

It turns out that some of those genes generate superpowers, under the right conditions.  One of them turns melanin, the brown pigment of humans, blue in the presence of a hormone called catalysine.  Others use catalysine to activate superhuman abilities.  All humans carry some of these genes.  But only a very, very tiny number – about 1 in 10,000 – have the gene that codes for the creation of catalysine.

Like testosterone, catalysine has two surges in a person’s life cycle.  One is pre-natally.  The amount generated is small and doesn’t pass the placental barrier, so no, pregnant women do not manifest superpowers when carrying a Proxima baby.  That’s an urban myth.  The surge pre-natally does little, usually, except to prepare the brain to control superpowers someday, creating a brain nucleus and appropriate wiring.  In cases where the child has two Proxima genes – for example, the child of two Proxima parents-- the amount of catalysine created pre-natally might be enough to distort the child’s appearance, begin converting melanin into azurin, or awaken a low level of superpower.

When the child hits puberty, the same genes that turn on sex hormones turn on catalysine production.  The superpowers appear, and wire up to the brain structures created in utero.  If the child has the gene for azurin conversion, their pigment changes from brown to blue – so pale red-haired and blonde white children suddenly develop purple, green or blue hair, while brown-skinned children turn blue all over.  (Azurin is also rare.  Only about 5% of all people carry the gene for azurin production, and only Proximas ever display it.  Non-Proximas with the azurin mutation never express it, and end up creating perfectly normal melanin, because they are never exposed to catalysine.)

The “power mitochondria” are another pan-human phenomenon that only expresses itself in Proximas.  All living cells on Earth contain tiny organelles called mitochondria – practically separate living things, with their own DNA, they use oxygen and sugar to generate the chemical that powers all life, ATP.  Power mitochondria vastly overproduce ATP, and no one knows where they get the energy to do it – it’s like they suck potential energy out of the universe and convert it to life force.  But they do this only when activated by catalysine within the cell.  About 1/3rd of humans have power mitochondria.  In the presence of the Proxima gene, these people generate energy above and beyond what they take in from food and air, which is then consumed by their superpowers.  Without power mitochondria, a Proxima must draw from their own life force to fuel their superpower, which makes their powers pretty weak.  The exact same genes for telekinesis can code for a person that can lift 70 lbs with their mind with effort vs. a person who can lift an aircraft carrier out of the water and break it in half, depending on the presence and output of the power mitochondria.  Since mitochondria are passed by the mother, Proximas who inherit their power from a powerful mother will always be very powerful themselves, whereas Proximas who inherit from a powerful Proxima father depend entirely on the hidden status of their mother for their own strength.  

(Funny fact, here: when Proximas were first discovered, male Proximas freely dated, married and fathered children on human women, because our entire society says it’s okay for men to have wives who are weaker than they are. Proxima women, on the other hand, mostly stuck to their own kind.  In the seven years since we discovered the role of the power mitochondria, we have seen a dramatic reversal in which powerful Proxima men will not marry or get serious with human women unless they consider themselves “childfree” or have had the human woman’s mitochondria analyzed for power status, and more and more Proxima women are dating Sapiens men.)

So most of what goes into making a Proxima is actually in a vast percentage of the human population – 30% have power mitochondria, pretty much all of them have powers-complex.  It’s the presence of the single gene that codes for catalysine production that makes a person Proxima as opposed to Sapiens.  My belief was that Proximas would not be safe from the fear and envy of Sapiens unless we were normalized.  The more Proximas there were, the more the law would adapt to and accommodate us and our needs and the less we’d need to fear the mob of Sapiens out to kill or control us.  So my primary work, since I became Dr. Mystery, had been to increase the number of Proximas by giving as many Sapiens the Proxima gene as I can.

In my early experiments, when I used uncontrolled methods like retroviruses to mutate people, there were high casualty rates.  Sapiens adults whose brains have not been exposed to catalysine in utero can’t control whatever superpowers they develop if they suddenly start making catalysine.  So I started working primarily with children, usually terminally or chronically ill children that I could get direct access to.  My power can create new brain pathways, and in a child or teen, with a developing brain, I can do it transparently, with no one noticing.  Adults cannot experience sudden brain growth and change without noticing that something’s wrong – memories suddenly becoming lost, well-developed skills becoming weaker, mood swings, etc—so I only alter adults into Proximas if they request it.  I often modify women of child-bearing age so that all their eggs carry the Proxima gene, ensuring that they’ll give birth to Proximas if they ever have kids.  It’s harder with men, because men are generating new sperm all the time – I’d have to alter the spermatogonia, and since they’re part of the body, the body’s immune system might notice that they are genetically different from the other cells and attack them, making the man infertile.  So I only make men into Proxima-fathers if I have plenty of time to work with them and tweak their immune systems, if necessary – and if they’re likely to have kids.  Gay men coming to me to save them from AIDS and 70-year-olds who don’t want to get Alzheimer’s are usually not worth modifying reproductively.  

The Peace Force were aware of my work, and opposed it.  They believed it was wrong of me to change people’s genes without their consent.  Technically, maybe they were right, but come on, what sane person would object to having superpowers?  The only reason anyone would not want to be a Proxima is the prejudice against us, and I was working on that too.  So I had to maintain a low profile because every so often the Peace Force would take it into their heads to try to capture me.  I’m pretty sure this wasn’t fully legal – I was pardoned for my activities as Megamorph by Bill Clinton (did you know that Hillary Clinton once had breast cancer? No?  Well, neither does anyone else), and nothing illegal I’d done as Dr. Mystery could be proven in a court of law.  But the law hadn’t caught up with Proxima abilities, so the Peace Force never overly concerned themselves with whether they could prove wrongdoing or not.  Their mentor and leader, Dr. Suryabati Chandrasekhar, aka Doctor Sun, was a telepath, and if she said, “Bad guy! Go fetch!” they would jump like puppydogs after a thrown stick.

So I lived in Baltimore, in a townhome in the Woodberry neighborhood, on Television Hill, because living directly under the broadcast tower generated enough interference that Suri couldn’t find me telepathically.  I’d have preferred Little Italy, or better yet, a real city like New York or Philly (and I’d come way down in the world, admitting that Philly is a real city), but New York was far too close to Suri, whose base of operations was in Manhattan, and a lot of my work was done with politicians, making Baltimore or DC more convenient than Philly.  And DC had the Special Service, human police in power suits who patrolled to protect the Capitol from parahuman attack.  I never felt safe in DC.  My Woodberry home had civilians living on both sides and a children’s day care across the street, ensuring that the Peace Force couldn’t attack me in force – they’d know the threat to civilians from a power battle would be too great to risk it politically for my sake (and to be fair, most of them are goody-two-shoes hero types who wouldn’t risk civilians, especially preschool children, even if they had perfect political cover for the operation.)  So I figured that if Suri ever found me, she’d still think twice about siccing her dogs on me.

Also, the Light Rail, Baltimore’s sad and pathetic substitute for a subway, had a stop near my home.  I didn’t learn to drive until I was 28, and I still hated it with a passion.  I was a Brooklyn girl – give me a city with buses and subways and railways, so I wouldn’t have to dodge hurtling chunks of death metal just to get where I was going.  From DC’s Metro, after I dropped my rental car at the airport, I changed at Union Station to the Camden line, took it to the baseball stadium in Baltimore, and changed there for the Light Rail.  This took far longer than a car would have, but didn’t involve me being isolated in a tiny box with no source of living organic matter other than my own flesh and facing careening metal boxes coming right for me.  It also didn’t involve traffic jams, which are brutal on the DC Beltway.  A short walk from my stop later, and I was home.

As I unlocked my front door, Brian the cockatiel chirped at me wildly, flapping his wings in his cage.  I’m really proud of Brian – in some ways he’s my greatest work.  He used to be a man, or the head of a man, who attempted to rape me once.  The truly pathetic thing was that Brian had been a good-looking guy, wiry and blond, the way I like them, and if he’d been willing to wait half an hour I would happily have had sex with him.  But he hadn’t wanted sex, he’d wanted rape – the only reason he dated women and went back to their houses with them, rather than jumping out of the bushes with a knife, was that he was a lawyer and knew that a handsome man with money who date rapes a woman will basically never, ever be convicted.  People think rapists have to be hard up for sex, or have to somehow look evil – the idea that a handsome, charming guy who could get any woman he wanted would actually prefer to hold screaming women down and force them when he could get consensual sex with the exact same woman instead breaks people’s brains.  They assume the woman must be lying, because what man who could get mutual fun would prefer to commit rape?  No one wants to admit how common misogynistic sadists actually are or how normal they look.

I found out from Brian that he’d date-raped ten women before me, that only two had tried to press charges, and the cops had refused to take the charges in one case and upset the other one so badly with their disbelief that she’d dropped the charges.  I found this out while I had him paralyzed but still able to feel sensation, his voice made too hoarse to do more than whisper no matter how much he suffered, on a cot in the basement.  Over the course of the two weeks that I used him in experiments, he told me his entire life story, amidst lots of self-justifications, begging, pleading and promising to change his ways.  Then I started turning his body parts into animals, bit by bit.  The rats and mice I made of his arms and legs didn’t come out right, and they died.  The cockroaches who used to be his testicles were actually very robust, but after the cat knocked over the terrarium I was keeping them in, I had to get an exterminator to kill them because who wants cockroaches in their house?  I was actually quite sad when the puppy I made out of his guts wouldn’t wake up and live – sometimes they just won’t come alive no matter what I do.  Living things are very complex, and it’s more an art than a science to do things like make life into different life.  

Since at that point, Brian had no way to digest food or ingest water, and he was therefore only a day or two away from death, I finally put him out of his misery by turning his head into a cockatiel and his torso into an iguana, a gecko, and a handful of tropical fish.  Nothing lived longer than a week except the cockatiel, which so far had lasted three years.  I often wondered, since I’d used some of the original brain tissue in making Brian’s new cockatiel brain, if he had any dim sense that he used to be human.

I fed Brian a cracker, re-absorbed my shoes into my flesh, and took back my original human form before plopping down on the couch to relax and await my cats.  My actual body was permanently frozen at about age 22 or so; I changed it so often, I’d never really had the opportunity to let it naturally age.  I could have forced it up to 36, where I really was, if I had to, but why bother?  No one was going to see me and think less of me for looking too childish.  My natural form is about 5’4” and built like a gymnast – tiny breasts, thickly muscled legs and arms, a rounded and balanced body with a low center of gravity and nothing sticking way out of line with the rest of it.  For gymnastics – my childhood passion – and for combat, it was a fantastic body, and I used it for years as Megamorph before it occurred to me that maybe I should hide my true face if I was going to be a criminal.  For instantly commanding respect, making men drool and women envy, or sending the signal “I AM A SERIOUS CRIMINAL MASTERMIND”, it wasn’t so good.  It was short, the face looked too young and soft (and too much like a young, soft Gillian Anderson – people in med school actually used to call me “Scully”), and a body perfectly proportioned for gymnastics or martial arts isn’t all that attractive by the psycho standards of our culture.  But it was my body, and in my home, with the shades drawn and the security system on, I went back to it because it was me.  

As I wiggled my toes on my shag carpet and then propped my feet up on my coffee table, I wondered where my cats were.  They were well-fed cats, but their heightened metabolisms made them constantly hungry, and they knew I was a sucker for giving them treats when I’d first come home.  Normally, they’d be leaping on me minutes after my arrival.  This worried me.  If I had accidentally shut them in the bedroom, Angelkitty would probably pee on my ceiling to express her displeasure and Pikachu might have destroyed my furniture with a few good lightning blasts by now.  

My cats were also experiments.  I’d been curious to see if the genetic structures I’d observed in other mammals that seemed related to the human powers-complex were in fact superpowers, so I got myself a pair of abandoned newborn kittens and in between the droppers of kitten formula (I really drew the line at making cat milk in my own breasts; those little things have teeth very early), I modified them to generate catalysine.  The female promptly grew bird wings (which didn’t attach to the right spot on her back and were too small; she’d never have flown if I hadn’t heavily modified them for her), and the male developed the ability to shoot lightning out of his paws, so I named them Angelkitty and Pikachu.  (Technically, if you have seen the Pokemon cartoon, which I admit I have, Pikachu is a mouse that shoots electricity, or something rodentlike anyway, but come on, there aren’t exactly any mythological figures of cats that shoot electricity.)  Angelkitty’s a Siamese and Pikachu is mostly white with some orange. They don’t have power mitochondria – that does appear to be a human thing – so they eat like pigs.  I could feed six ordinary cats off what my two eat, but they remain extraordinarily svelte, almost feral in their slimness.  And so if they weren’t here to pester me for fish treats, something was wrong.

I got up and went out to the kitchen.  To my relief, my cats were still noshing on their tuna fish, which amazingly it looked like they had barely touched before I came home.  (I always fed them human food.  Why not?  I had the money to keep them in canned tuna rather than cat food, and they loved the stuff.)  Pikachu looked up at me, gave me a meow that I interpreted as “Oh, you’re home, good,” and then went back to his meal.

Wait a minute.  There was more food in the bowl than there had been when I said good-bye to them this morning.  And it was beyond the realm of possibility that they’d left so much food untouched for so long, anyway.  And the tuna looked fresh out of the can.  So how—

“I was wondering when you were going to get home,” a woman’s voice said behind me.  I was already spinning to face her, preparing to leap at her, but as soon as I saw her I realized it was hopeless.  “Don’t you ever feed these cats?  They look like they’re starving.”

Ciana Kim, aka Sapphire, my once-classmate and current dire nemesis, was standing – well, floating—above my stairs in her traditional blue bubble, her features slightly obscured by the blue distortion and concealed behind her mask.  The combat leader of the Peace Force was in my house.

I backed up.  I couldn’t take Sapphire directly.  Her power was to generate spherical or toroid magnetic fields, which glowed blue due to the way they bent light, hence her name.  I needed organic channels to send my power through—behind her force field, Sapphire was totally safe from me, because I couldn’t touch her.  I wasn’t safe from her, though.  She could generate a force field around me, trapping me, any time she wanted.  

There was a switch by the door to my basement, labeled “FURNACE – DO NOT TOUCH,” that would actually activate an EMP.  All the computer and electronic equipment I had in my house outside the Faraday cage of the basement would fry, but Sapphire’s power would fail as well, and I could leap on her before she could reset her power.  Or, if I didn’t really want to replace my MP3 player, phones, and the laptop in the bedroom, perhaps I could grab Pikachu and throw him at her.  He’d be startled enough to discharge a bolt, and the electrical surge should pop her field like a soap bubble.  I knew I had a faster reaction time than Sapphire – after years of modifying and tuning up my nervous system, I’m faster than anyone who doesn’t have super-speed as a specific power – so I should be able to grab her and neutralize her power or knock her out before she could get a force field back up again.  I was reluctant to do that because Pikachu was my kitty and throwing him at superheroes seemed kind of mean, even though I knew he wouldn’t be hurt, but the EMP generator could theoretically blow out TV Hill, and then I’d have to dodge swarms of reporters trying to find out why they suddenly couldn’t get on the air anymore.  

I stalled for time.  “They’ve got very fast metabolisms.  I feed them all the time, but they’ll pester anyone they meet for more.”

Sapphire rolled her eyes.  “Oh, stand down, Meg. If I was here to capture you or beat you up, I’d have done it before you knew I was here.”

She had a point. Sapphire wasn’t stupid, and she had completely gotten the drop on me, to the point that I was actually really embarrassed about it.  “So what do you want?  Cooking advice?  I always prefer to replace the generic vegetable oil with olive or canola, it’s easier on the heart.”  The last time I’d been in the same household as her, Ciana Kim had refused to learn to cook, for very similar reasons to her refusal to learn hand-to-hand combat.  

She ignored my jab. “Doctor Sun sent me.  She needs your help and she asked me to ask you.”

I blinked.  Doctor Sun wanted my help?  Cold day in hell.  But it’d have to get a lot colder before I’d say yes.  “She wants my help?  And she actually thinks I might agree?  Excuse me, but the last time I interacted with any of you people you wrecked my lab, ruined four years of work and set me back half a million dollars.”

“You were infecting children’s vaccines with a retrovirus.  Did you seriously think we’d let you just get away with it?”

“All it would have done was make them into Proximas.  What do you think I am?”

“Someone who mutates people against their will.  And how do you know that’s all it would have done?  Retroviruses mutate. Besides, it’s still wrong to change people without their consent.  How do you know those kids would even have wanted superpowers?”

“Oh, be real.  Who wouldn’t want superpowers?”

“If I wasn’t a Proxima, I might have been an Olympic gold medalist.”

She was telling the truth.  One of the things that annoyed me so much about Ciana was how close her life had been to mine, minus the dysfunctional family.  I, too, had had Olympic dreams once, and my coach had told me when I was 11 that I might seriously make it as a contender.  But no matter how good I’d been, I’d never really had a chance; if my parents hadn’t died when I was 13, some other aspect of my family’s screwed-up-ness would have ruined it for me.

Ciana Kim, however, had had a good and loving family who’d pushed her hard in the belief that she could achieve anything.  She was a third-generation Korean American from California and her parents were doctors or something like that, and they’d stood behind her every step of the way.  Even after everything had fallen apart in my life and I’d basically become a thug for hire, I had followed the Olympic gymnastic news, so I’d known all about this as it was happening.  

Ciana was originally to be the USA’s representative to the Olympics in Seoul for women’s artistic gymnastics.  Much was made in the media of a Korean American going to Seoul to represent America, but Ciana had been very photogenic and full of great soundbites about how she was as American as apple pie and she was honored to represent our great country and she was so looking forward to bringing a medal home for the US and she was following in Mary Lou Retton’s footsteps and blah blah blah.  And then, a week before the Olympics, it had come out that she was a Proxima.  They’d finally figured out that doing a blood test for catalysine would find any Proxima with an active power.

The truth is that even now, twenty years later, as an experienced superhero who uses her powers all the time, Ciana still can’t use her powers invisibly.  There’s always a shiny blue blob there. And she had no training with her powers when she was 16, so it would have been even more implausible that she could have somehow used her powers to secretly cheat.  I would be disqualified from a Sapiens competition in gymnastics in any sane world because of what my powers actually are, but Ciana was disqualified solely from anti-Proxima prejudice (and, to be fair, probably some anti-Asian prejudice from the Americans whose job it would have been to advocate for her).  The Americans paid for their prejudices when Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union took home all the women’s gymnastics medals (I don’t like Ciana, but I’m pretty sure she would have won at least a silver in something, if not a gold.) Ciana was recruited by Dr. Chandrasekhar to learn how to use her powers and eventually join the Peace Force, Dr. Chandrasekhar’s UN-supported superhero team.

So it wasn’t that I had no respect for Ciana’s loss, but it irritated me that she saw the problem as being that she was a Proxima rather than that the Olympic committee was scared of Proximas.  And also, that being an Olympic medalist was better than being a superhero.  “Yeah yeah, you could have had your moment of glory, and nowadays you’d be selling sneakers and breakfast cereal to pay the bills, assuming anyone even remembered you at all.  What’s Mary Lou Retton doing with her life?”

“She’s been an Olympics commentator, and she’s a motivational speaker who supports physical fitness.”

Trust Ciana to actually know this.  “And that’s better than being a superhero how?  You save lives, you have an action figure, millions of little girls look up to you—“

“—I wear a mask when I save lives because otherwise supervillains or stalkers might hunt me down, no one knows my real name, my family aren’t allowed to tell anyone what I do for a living, I’ll probably never have a normal life with a husband and kids—“

“--You could marry some guy and quit the superhero business any time you wanted to, it’s just your overblown sense of responsibility that says you can’t quit your job to have babies until your powers give out on you, because you think the world needs you, and if that’s the case where would they have been if you hadn’t been a Proxima?”

“Someone else would have taken my place if I hadn’t been a Proxima.  And all of this is besides the point; no matter how great you or even I might think it is to have superpowers, the fact is that you were planning to infect helpless babies with a retrovirus that would have mutated them.  Some of them might have died of it.  Some might have been killed by their families for being Proximas once they manifested.  You don’t have the right to play God that way.”

“Nobody would have died of my virus,” I retorted.  “I tested it thoroughly ahead of time.  But you also notice, I haven’t done it again.”

“Because you know we’ll stop you.”

“Because I listened to your arguments that retroviruses are unstable and highly prone to mutation, and I decided that maybe you have a point.”

“Then why did you bring it up?”

“You didn’t even try to just persuade me.  You just blew up my lab!  Do you know how many vials of vaccine I hadn’t modified yet you destroyed?”

“All of this is pointless,” Sapphire snapped.  “I’m wasting time arguing with you when Doctor Sun is dying.  Are you coming or not?”

Wait, what?  Dying?  

I had been a half-crazed killer with no self-esteem, no sense of myself being able to be or do anything good, no belief that anyone could ever care about me – at least not without dying for it – after David died.  Dr. Chandrasekhar had taken me in and taught me that I could have a better destiny than being a tool for monsters to use to kill each other with; that I didn’t have to be a monster myself.  I could use my powers for good.  I could help people.  I could be a decent person.

Viewed from her perspective, I suppose, it didn’t last – I freely admit I am a supervillain and I do highly unethical things, up to and including killing people.  But I do it for a cause I believe in.  I do it to save my people from the bio-engineered diseases I was forced to participate in creating at Sonnebend.  I do it so girls with superpowers who are going to medical school to learn how to save lives will not be kidnapped, stripped of their powers except when convenient for their captors, raped, tortured and forced to use their powers to heal enemies and kill their own kind, by agents of their own government.  I do it so my people can enjoy the same rights and privileges as every other human on this planet.  And the fact that I can fight for a cause, that I can see myself as a person with a noble goal of my own… I owe that entirely to Doctor Sun.

No matter what she does to me, no matter what she orders her Peace Force to do, I can’t ever get away from that.

“Dying of what?”

“She was kidnapped and raped by Caesar Primus.  When she escaped, she was two months’ pregnant, but the doctors say it seems more like six months.  The child is growing too rapidly for her to handle it, and it’ll kill her.”

Oh, God.  

My heart started pounding, my throat went dry.  I could feel the adrenaline surging, my sympathetic nervous system revving up for a totally inappropriate fight-or-flight response.  I couldn’t stop imagining the reality behind Sapphire’s words.  It didn’t help that I’d once had sex with Primus myself – consensual, sort of, but I could entirely too easily imagine what it’d be like to be raped by him, without powers to protect you.  And Primus was immune to telepathy, so effectively Suri would have been helpless.  God, no.  I didn’t want to think about that.  

So I was flippant, and cold.  “Doctor Sun’s a woman of the world.  You’re telling me she’s never heard of an abortion?”

“She doesn’t want an abortion.  She says she won’t compound Primus’ act by taking an innocent life.”

“When did Doctor Sun turn into a pro-lifer?”

“She says the baby has a mind and she won’t kill it.”  Sapphire floated herself down onto my dining room floor, still surrounded by a protective bubble but no longer on my stairs.  “Are you going to help, or not?”

“I’m a feminist Darwinist.  I’m morally opposed to letting a fetus conceived in rape live.  It lets dangerous genes persist in the population.  Suri knows that.”

Sapphire sighed explosively.  “Fine.  I knew you weren’t going to be any help, but Doctor Sun believed in you.  I’ll just go tell her I was right and she was wrong.”

“What is this supposed to be, reverse psychology?”

“Nothing reverse about it. I knew before I got here that I would be wasting my time.  You’re a killer with no conscience; why Doctor Sun ever thought you might help, I have no idea.”

“Because she knows me better than you.”  I stepped forward.  “If this is reverse psychology bullshit, it isn’t necessary. I’ve known I was going to agree to help you since you told me she was dying.  And if you really believe what you’re saying, then nyaah nyaah nyaah.  I’m a doctor; everything I do, I do to save lives.  And at least I have to try to persuade Doctor Sun to abort the thing.  Besides, if she was raped by Primus she might have injuries she could need my help with.”  Primus had hammered at me like he was trying to break my pelvis, and without my powers he might actually have done so.  And I’d voluntarily gone to bed with him.  What he’d do to a woman he was raping, I really really didn’t want to imagine.

I didn’t mention to Sapphire that this was partly my fault anyway.  When I’d met her, Suri (Dr. Suri to me in those days, but I feel I have the right to call her by her first name now) had been dying slowly of multiple sclerosis.  She had met me on a good day; she’d only needed crutches and braces to move.  On bad days she’d been confined to a wheelchair, and on really bad days she’d had to stay in bed.  I’d healed her, and in the process I’d turned her from a forty-something woman approaching menopause back to a woman in her prime, young and healthy, physically in her 20’s.  It had been almost 20 years since I’d done that; Suri would be approaching menopause again, but obviously wasn’t there yet.  By now she’d be well past childbearing if I hadn’t de-aged her when I’d healed her disease.

I didn’t know whether Primus had raped her to torture her, to express domination over her, to really make the Peace Force mad at him, or to impregnate her, but I knew he had enough control over his body that if he hadn’t wanted to impregnate her, it wouldn’t have happened.  It was entirely possible that the goal of the whole thing had been to force her to carry his child; Suri was an enormously powerful Proxima with high output power mitochondria, and most women with such energy-full mitochondria would have had a power they could use to fight back against Primus.  Blocking a Proxima woman’s powers while she was pregnant carried high risk to the fetus if it too was a Proxima; it could prevent the fetus from developing the ability to control its powers as an adult.  Suri was rare in that she was incredibly powerful but only telepathic, with no telekinetic abilities, and with Primus’ immunity to telepathy, she’d have had no way to fight back against him even at her full power.  If Primus had wanted a powerful woman to pass her mitochondria to his child, and he hadn’t cared about her consent, there were few Proximas who’d make a better target for him.  And if that was the case, then the whole thing wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t made her younger, sixteen years ago.

Sapphire blinked.  “Wait.  You are coming?”

“I just said so.  But we have to bring my cats.  They need to eat more than the average cat – they’d starve if I left them without food for three or four days, and obviously I can’t ask the neighbors to come feed them.”

“Fine.  Sedate them; I don’t need a cat flying all over my car, or meowing and moaning in his carrier the whole time.  We’ll put them in one of the suites and make sure they get fed.”

I took my cell phone – it had all of my appointments and contacts in it, and I’d have to call them all to reschedule once I knew how long this was going to take.  If I could talk Suri into aborting the fetus, this could probably go very quickly, but I knew how stubborn she was.  If I had to save the baby too, I could possibly have to take a few weeks.

Damn Suri.  Why the hell was I taking time off my work and spending four hours in a car with one of the people who most annoyed me in the entire world to go save my greatest opponent anyway?  From a problem she could just fix herself if she wasn’t so damn stubborn?

But I already knew.  I couldn’t let Suryabati Chandrasekhar die; not under any circumstances, and most especially not if she’d asked for me specifically.  Our differences were ideological; what she’d done for me went beyond ideology.  I would fight her and her people when I had to, but if she was dying and she needed me, I had to go.